


Time After Time

by Just-kent-ing-around (FallenBleedingAngel)



Series: Time After Time [1]
Category: DCU, Smallville, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Dark Clark, Eventual reveal, Eventually AU, F/F, M/M, Mutually Possessive Clark & Lex, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-05-31 11:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 166,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15118772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenBleedingAngel/pseuds/Just-kent-ing-around
Summary: Clark Kent sets the world aflame for love -Turns back time to create the world he wants to see.A selfish mission to save Lex Luthor before it's too late.To save them from the hate their love became.Smallville-centric, Time Travel Fix-It, Eventually AU, Dark & Possessive Clark Kent





	1. Back to the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo boy, I have the barest of bones plot for this little bugger.
> 
> Decided to watch Smallville after years and years, cause I love Superman and I fell in love with Tom Welling's Clark Kent, and Michael Rosenbaum's Lex Luthor.
> 
> I didn't want Clark and Lex to stop being friends throughout the series, SO TIME TRAVEL FIX IT. cause really, it feels like Clark would super regret loosing Lex (or am i projecting) because all he needed was someone to believe in him and that he could be good. Early Smallville Lex was just misguided and needed some hugs and therapy okay!?
> 
> Also I HATED the Lana & Chloe "I love Clark" tension throughout Smallville, so this story will be eventual Clex, and Chlana, and obvs. Ma Kent and Pa Kent. Chlana is gonna be so kick-ass guys, I'm super excited to get to that part.
> 
> But yeah, I'm like I need to make this different okay?? This is basically my treat myself fic. Eventually it's gonna be super AU. Just so you know. It'll loosely follow the plot with a shit ton of changes and sexually charged scenes between Clex and Chlana.
> 
> Also marked Underage cause I'm not sure what season in Smallville Clark turns Legal! But there probs won't be anything much but pining for quite a while. 
> 
> Enjoy!! Kudos and Review (you'll make me realize people actually want to read this tbh.)

“They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.”  - Andy Warhol

 

* * *

 

“I'm scared, Clark,” Bruce's body heaves weakly.  
  
He is bleeding out slowly, mask off, and Clark notices his blue eyes shimmer with fright.

“Don't be, Bruce.” Clark's voice is a soft whisper, he caresses Bruce's face, “You have nothing to be afraid of.”

Bruce looks at him, his eyes filling with terrified tears, “How can I not be?”

His tears are falling now, voice trembling the longer he looks at Clark, “How can I not? Look at what you've become.”

Voice gruff with enough emotion to choke on, Bruce says, “Look at what you've become, Clark, at what you've done. How can you believe I have no reason to be afraid?”

Clark smiles at Bruce, bright, warm,  _caring_.  


For a moment Bruce can almost believe that it is the same Clark he knew - the same Clark the world loved.

But his eyes, - his eyes are cold enough to make his soul shudder.

Clark cups Bruce's face, his blue eyes alight with furor in an instant, “Don't fear me, Bruce. I won't hurt you. You've been my friend for so long, even if you've made a nuisance of yourself, I still forgive you. But I won't let you interfere anymore than you already have. I have something I need to do,  someone  I need to save. And no matter how much I love you –  _loved_   you, I won't let you change my mind.”

Bruce struggles against his chains.

Eyes blazing with anger, tears filled with sorrow and reminisce, “I won't let you do this, Clark. I won't let you change everything because you think you can  fix it all , not when all you'll leave is a mountain of corpses. The universe doesn't work like that. Nothing does.”

Clark laughs; his breath tickles the hollow of Bruce's cheeks.

Bruce remembers and he regrets – Clark is no longer his friend, no longer the man the world once knew. He should have seen it coming. There is no one to blame but himself.

The world burns around him and Batman is the last hope humanity had.

Shackled to the ground, weary, angry, and mourning; for his best friend with smiles that outshone the sun - for his children and colleagues - for the world he could not save.

“I ask not for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulders,” Clark whispers into his ear, voice reverent. “I'll hold the world on my shoulders if I have to. I'll make sure that this doesn't happen again. I'll make sure that we don't turn into this again. It's all I can promise you, Bruce. Your fight is over, but I'll remember you. Remember your mistakes and make sure you never make them.”

Clark hovers away, towards a machine created from countless lives; from betrayal; from helplessness, his own  _ helplessness _ . Towards a light that brings a better future, through the past. A chance to fix all that went wrong with the world.

Before the end, before everything ceases to exist, to be re-written again, Bruce Wayne lets out a deafening yell, struggling, fighting,  _ losing _ . It is the last thing he ever does.

Clark walks into the machine, trembling,  aching , and heady with the weight of victory.

Light is all he sees. And the past as he knew it, is ashes.

The sun peaks over the horizon, Clark breathes in the chill air of the Kent Farm – he is seventeen again.

Feeling his body, old and new, muscles thrumming with excitement, he knows, even powerless as he is now, nothing will ever be the same again.

He smiles.

 

* * *

 

“Clark Kent, you're gonna be late for the bus.”

Clark races to the kitchen, disoriented for a millisecond.

Red hair frames his mother's face and Clark almost bursts into tears. Controlling himself, instead hugs his mother tight, burying his face in her hair – he hides his teared up eyes.

Martha pats his head and tucks loose strands behind his ear. “Is there something wrong sweetheart?”

Clark smiles into her hair, “Nothing mom.I-" Clark hesitates before he speaks, feeling tongue tied, "I just feel like it's going to be a good day.”

Martha unwraps his arms around her shoulders and kisses him on the cheek.

Jonathan strolls in chipper and  alive , “Morning, sleepyhead. It's about time to be heading out yeah? Don't want to be late again.”

Clark stares for a second too long before he hugs his father.  He breathes in the scent of hay, gravel, and morning dew. He revels in the thought that his father is alive again. Tearing himself away, Clark crumples the permission slip in his hand faster than they can see.

“I gotta get going. Pete and Chloe are waiting up for me on the bus.”

Jonathan and Martha smile at him, then they trade a look of bemusement,  teenagers .  He heads out walking briskly towards the bus; he hears his mom shout, “Don't forget I have class tonight, so you two are on your own. Don't order pizza, there's plenty of food in the fridge.”

Clark turns back and nods, wiping the tears that managed to slip past, as he sets sight upon Chloe and Pete.  To them it's just another day on the farm, another day in Smallville, but to Clark it's more than he could ever deserve. Overflowing with happiness, he decides then and there, it was worth it.

Every sacrifice, every enemy he made, every friend he lost, it was worth it all.

As he boards the bus, Pete complains as he and Chloe trade bills, “What happened to it being a statistical fact, huh Pete?” Chloe is teasing him and Pete tries not to smile as he greets Clark good morning.  Clark rolls his eyes, and sits a row behind them, “Morning guys, just betting for my misery, I see.”

Chloe laughs, and a smirk finds its way on her face, “It's easy money if you know your Clark Kent Statistics.”

Pete huffs, feeling cheated out of his money, “You got lucky. And knowing you that's all capitalized and an acronym.”

Clark looks at them young, and innocent - nothing of their future troubles weighing them down. Nothing twisting them into people that were unrecognizable.

He tries not to remember how they died.

How he killed them.

He can feel the phantom blood, warm and crusting on his fingers. Feel their betrayals still cutting into his heart like shards of Kryptonite. They have yet to happen, he will make sure they never do.

His smile wavers, and he feels their eyes showing their concern.

He shakes his head of unsavory thoughts, and he smiles sheepishly, “I'm fine guys. Just wondering if we have any upcoming tests.”

Chloe and Pete's eyes widen in surprise, and twin exclamations ring in his ears, “Do we?”

Clark sighs, marveling that his smile is getting easier to fake, even if the memories twist and ache in his heart.

The bus drives on and he steels himself. 

His mission won't be an easy one but it will be  worth  it.

 

* * *

 

Pete tugs on his arm entering the school courtyard. Chloe continues prattling on about her newest column.

“As interesting as this sounds Chloe,” Pete says as he takes out a sloppily folded piece of paper, “We have to turn in these permission slips before homeroom.” He shoots Clark a smile and continues dragging him along.

Clark drags his feet, a nervous smile on his face, “Actually, Pete, I didn't get the permission slip signed. I'm having second thoughts...and my parents - my dad didn't think it was a good idea.”

The smile drops from Pete's face, and he punches Clark in the shoulder, “Come on Clark, it was the only way! What are we supposed to do now?”

Chloe snickers in their faces, “You two are trying out for the football team? What is this some-”

Pete drags Chloe closer to him and whispers, “We are not becoming this years' Scarecrow!”

Chloe looks at him exasperated, and Pete's hushed tone entices her to not fling his arm off of her, “It's a homecoming tradition. The football team chooses some poor guy, strips him, and strings him up like a scarecrow.”

“Wow, they must need some extensive therapy after all that. What is it with Smallville and -” Chloe begins to go on another rant about Smallville weirdness. Pete cuts in, arms waving frantically, “That's why we wanted to join the football team, usually cliques don't go after their own right? But I guess we can't do much if Mr. Kent said no. I don't get it, did they not string people up back then?”

Clark shrugs, as his eyes catch on a sickly green sheen. His eyes can see nothing but her face. He remembers her – although he wishes he hadn't.

_ Lana Lang. _

He struggles as the sticky feelings of first love and nausea fight within him. He's thrown completely off balance by the the slip of a woman he sees before him.

Brown hair haloed by the sunlight, a smile sweeter than sin. Her eyes crinkle with laughter, warm and honest.

Her  _smile_.

Anger and remorse burn within him as he feels so very, very lost.

Giving Chloe and Pete a laughable excuse, he walks slowly towards her.

Quelling the sheer emotion her  visage  brings him is harder than he thought.

But for the mission, for  _ Lex _ , anything.

He falls to the floor, books and all a moment later. His head is dizzy, stomach revolting, and legs weak.

The Kryptonite around her neck, he thinks, is a lesser pain to him than the concern she shows as he raises his head to collect his things.

“Nietzsche,” she says, handing him back his book, “Didn't realize you had a dark side, Clark.”  


Lana's voice rings in his ears, past and present whispering her secrets, lies, and love. Green eyes flicker over his form and Clark wills himself not to curl up and die.

He gives her a weak smile that doesn't reach his eyes,“Sometimes people are just better at hiding things they don't want anyone to see.”

Lana hums, sadness pooling in her eyes before disappearing completely.

“Lana!” Whitney shouts, he shoots Clark a look, as he tries not to sneer. He starts to pull her away, before throwing one more book in Clark's direction. She whispers a goodbye Clark barely hears - he feels like he’s drowning.

The effects of the Kryptonite lessen with every step Lana takes away from him – he wants nothing more than to keep away from her – and wonders if he can.

Somehow he thinks, Smallville will find a way, whether he likes it or not.

Dusting his jeans off, and collecting his books, Clark heads for class.

School is exactly as boring and mind numbing as he remembered it but at least it passes quickly. Listening to the final bell ring, he wishes Pete luck on his football tryouts, and nervously heads towards the bridge.

Towards the start of he and Lex.

 

* * *

 

By the time he makes it to the bridge, his emotions border on hysterical.

A million and one thoughts run through his head, as he wrings his hands, knowing he would bend steel if he had any.

What if Lex doesn't like him this time?

If he says something utterly stupid and messes it all up?

If Lex sees through him like he always had?

What if he can't save Lex?

Clark feels his heart ache with worry and anticipation.  
He is so lost in his thoughts he doesn't see the car racing towards him.  
Doesn't see it hit the bundle of wire and spin out of control.  
Doesn't take notice of it going over the bridge - into the river taking him with it.

Lost and worried, he only notices when he feels water around him, sees the shiny metal of the car, and the form of the man who has always held his heart.

Swinging into action, Clark rips off the hood of the car,  _just like before_.

He carries Lex to the riverside, and gives him CPR.

His lips are wet, and soft, and so utterly hypnotizing.

He steals a kiss.

Then another. Love and Lust and Sorrow war within him as he tries not to caress every inch of Lex he can reach.

Pressing down gently, he watches Lex cough up water. He slumps happily, the worry seeping out of him like poison.

Lex groans, blue eyes staring at him in confusion, staring at him like a  _ stranger _ ,“I could've sworn I hit you.”

It breaks Clark's heart to realize that is what they are to each other in the moment.

Even if Lex was insanely gorgeous, with his wet clothes sticking to him, confused, and maybe concussed.

Clark masks his smile, helping Lex sit up, eyeing him with concern, “If you did, I'd be dead.”

Lex stares – it takes everything Clark has to keep ahold of himself and not smile like a lunatic. He is ecstatic to see Lex again after the horrors of his past.

He promises that this time, he'll do it right.

This time he'll tell the truth.

Now where was his phone?

 

* * *

 

Hair still dripping wet he faced the river and tried not think about how Lex's eyes cut through him like his missing heat vision. He faintly registered his father running down the bridge towards him, and his heart raced a million miles ahead.

Jonathan fretted over him, worry deepening the wrinkles on his face.

Wrapped in a familiar brown jacket, Clark had forgotten about his father's' worrying habit. He inwardly winced as Jonathan called Lex a maniac.

Lex looks down at him, countless emotions swirling in his eyes, “Thanks for saving my life.”

Clark smiles timidly, trying to keep the warmth out of his eyes,“I'm sure you would've done the same thing.”

Turning away from Lex, feels a lot like turning away from his destiny, but Clark steels himself and walks away, Jonathan a step behind.

He pretends that Lex's eyes don't bore into his back with a million and one questions.  He _ knows _  this Lex, _ trusts _  this Lex, but he doesn't  know  Clark, he doesn't  trust  him, wouldn't believe him even if he was told the truth. So Clark turns away, mind filling with old memories, - and remembers that Jeremy Creek is alive, unwoken, and soon to be thirsting for vengeance.

A vengeance Clark will _not_ grant him.

 

* * *

 

Night falls across Smallville and Clark stands still as Jeremy Creek wakes up from his coma.

Clark smiles at Jeremy, his expression unguarded and hopeful, “Glad to see you're awake, Jeremy. I need to talk to you about your past, and your future plans...I hope you'll be cooperative?”

Jeremy blinks in confusion, voice hoarse and angry,“Who the hell are you?”

Clark laughs deeply, closing his eyes to hide malice, “Jeremy, don't worry. I know you're probably really confused but I'm here to help! I'm here to make sure you don't hurt anyone. I'm here to make sure you stay here, okay?”

Jeremy snarls, throwing himself at Clark, electricity flickering on his arms.

Tiredly, Clark grumbles, “Why does it always have to end in a fight? What is with these people? Does Kryptonite just max their aggression levels?”

Clark throws Jeremy into a wall, pulls out a water pipe, and drenches him in water just as Jeremy begins to use his electricity.

Sighing in relief, Clark watches as Jeremy electrocutes himself into amnesia. Between one blink and the next Clark Kent is gone, no one in the hospital is none the wiser, and Jeremy Creek wakes up longing for home.

 

* * *

 

Stretching out his arms on his way home Clark smiles thinking about the truck waiting for him and thanks Lex for always giving him a perfect excuse to come visit.

The Kent Farm slowly comes into view as Clark takes him time walking home, relishing in the peace of a world that doesn't know he exists, a world that has never heard of the name Superman or Kal-El.

Smiling he looks upon his mom climbing on a tractor, he echoes his past, “Evening Mom, whose truck?”

Martha eyes his expression, “Yours. A gift from Lex Luthor.”

Clark struggles to keep the smile off his face, and Martha gently pats his cheek, “Good luck, sweetheart, your father has the keys.”

Clark exaggeratedly sighs for his mother, and watches her head in, no doubt to start on dinner.

Jonathan takes one look at Clark, turns off the machine, and begins to busy himself, “I know how much you want it, son. But you can't keep it.”

Clark rolls his eyes, “And I'm fine with that, Dad. I just didn't expect for him to be so...enthusiastic about trying to pay me back.”

Pacing, Jonathan says, “I know you saved his life, and maybe you feel you des-”

Jonathan does a double take, “Are you being serious, Clark?”

Clark grumbles, “Of course, Dad.” And then teasingly he says, “You know, I do listen when you lecture, right?”

Jonathan ruffles his hair, “I'm proud of you, son. I know this is hard for you, but nothing good ever comes out of owing something to the Luthors. I don't want you to learn this the hard way, Clark.”

Clark nods, and speculatively eyes his dad, “On this topic of being proud of me, can I just say that I'm not normal? I-I didn't dive in after Lex's car, Dad. It hit me a 60 miles per hour.” Clark feels a strange sort of nervousness bubble in his stomach, and wonders if his father will take the bait, “I mean I can show you if you want-” He hesitates walking towards the wood chipper, but Jonathan puts a hand on his shoulder and gently looks him in the eye.

“I think it's time we had a talk, son.”

Clark fakes his confusion and apprehension – and the rest is his future past.

 

* * *

 

Walking through the woods, Clark wonders if he has a penchant for creating his own misery. He stumbled across Lana Lang yet again, and wonders how he could forget she was even there. But even as he complains he knows he needs her, if only to spark jealousy in Whitney so he can meet Lex again.

Clark reacts on autopilot and feels strangely detached looking at this innocent Lana Lang, clutching a bouquet of flowers in front of her parents graves. The entire time they spent talking passes in a hazy blur, and Clark has never felt more like an actor, mindlessly spewing his lines than at that moment.

Lana Lang for all her current sincerity and honesty, reminds him of all the times he _failed_ her and she in turn him.

He shudders remembering the Kryptonite embedded into her very being, the very pain of knowing no matter how much he loved her, every waking moment would be another circle of hell the closer they were. 

He failed her and loved her, and she loved him and failed him, until they could no longer.

He loved her, worshiped her, hated her, and then learned to let their past go.

Learned that life had it's bitter disappointments and his and Lana Lang's relationship was just another number on a very long list.

Lex Luthor had been at the very top of that list; Clark remembers, as he walks Lana back home.

He agonized over Lex's death, coming to realize just how important Lex was to him. He realized too late, hiding his emotions like the hypocrite he was – and then Lex was gone, another candle blown out by the wind.

“Thanks for walking me home. Goodnight, Clark. If you change your mind, I'll see if I can save you a dance.” She leans in to kiss him on the cheek, and Clark almost recoils in horror, body tense and expecting the sting of Kryptonite.

Lana looks at him curiously, but smiles all the same before walking towards her house.

Clark shakes his head and briskly walks home, cursing himself for tensing up - for almost revealing himself on accident.

He needs to pull himself together, before he does something he can't fix.

 

* * *

 

The next day can’t come quick enough, and Clark tosses and turns in his bed, eager yet dreading to see Lex. He's going to say something stupid. Most assuredly he will.

He's going to offend Lex in some unseen way, the way he miraculously didn't last time and Lex won't even want see him breathing.

Dawn breaks as Clark stews in his worry, the only thing Clark is certain about is Lex is absolutely going to  hate  him...for some reason or the other.

At breakfast Martha watches him with a worried look, “Is there something wrong, Clark?”

Clark barely touched his food, distracted and antsy.

Clark smiles shakily, picking at his waffles,“I’m just nervous, ma. I don’t want him to be...offended because I don’t want the truck. I know what Dad says about the Luthors, but honestly, he didn’t seem that bad...so maybe there’s hope?”

Martha sighs, “You father and the Luthors have certainly had their differences, Clark, but I just want you to be careful, okay? I know he might be different from his father, but he also might...not.” Martha trailed off warily, and patted Clark’s shoulders.

Clark looked curiously at his mother, keys twirling in his fingers, “I will ma, I gotta get going now.”

Martha nods and starts to put breakfast away, “And when you come back, mister, you’d better eat something, you hear?”

Hesitating by the door Clark says, “Sure will ma, wish me luck.”

 

* * *

 

Walking the familiar halls Luthor Mansion, Clark stops to stare at Lex fencing with his instructor and marvels at the stunning grace Lex exhibits as he fights.

Clark knows he only gets better with age - he remembers Lex, older and wiser fighting enemies far beyond what a human would’ve been able to and misses him. Misses him, grieves him, and yet loathes him all the same for leaving him in a bleak world.  

He follows Lex, careful of his distance but close enough to see the small droplets of sweat clinging to his neck. Close enough to breathe in Lex’s scent that has haunted him for years.

“How’s the new ride?”

Clark fiddles with the keys as he remembers he did last time. “That’s why I’m here-”

Lex arches an eyebrow, “What’s the matter? You don’t like it?”

Clark bites his lip as Lex turns to face him,“ It’s great...it’s fantastic, but I can’t keep it.”

Lex smiles at him, eyes alight with curiosity, “You saved my life, Clark. Getting you a new truck is the least I can do...Your father doesn’t like me, does he? It’s alright. I’m used to people judging me before they get to know me.”

Lex looks in the mirror and runs a hand over his head.

Clark tries not to tear up over how _ lonely _  Lex sounds, “It’s not that. I-I mean it kind of is. Sure my dad doesn’t think the best of the yours, but you don’t seem like the horrible person everyone thinks you are. I mean that’s just what I think...and I’m going to shut up now...”

Rubbing his neck, Clark feels like he’s said too much, “Anyways,” he hands Lex the keys, “I’d better get going. Thanks for the truck.”

Lex tilts his head, “Clark? Do you believe a man can fly?”

Clark smiles unsure of how to answer, “On a plane, sure. I wouldn’t know what to call a flying man, but jetpacks are just fantasy, right?”

Lex chuckles faintly, “Not like that Clark, not with mechanical assistance. I’m talking about flying through the sky with nothing forcing you down. With nothing but air beneath you and clouds above. Where gravity isn’t a universal law but something to bend on a whim.”

Clark blinks, and remembered how once upon a time, Lex had been idealistic and very, very young.

He watched Lex monologue about his time spent soaring in the sky, about destiny and his new beginning. He watched the sweat soak into the towel and wondered if he should steal it. He wondered just how much hormones were affecting his rational thoughts.

Lex’s voice was deeper now,  _ tempting and gravelly _ , sending a zing down his back,“You gave me a second chance. We have a future together, Clark. And I don’t want anything or anyone to stand in the way of our friendship.” Lex closes in on him and Clark can feel his breath, can see the way his eyes blaze with passion - with _obsession_.

Clark looks at him through his eyelashes, a small smile on his face, and wills himself not to blush scarlet, “You want to know something, Lex? I think I’d rather have a friend than a truck.”

Lex gazes at him fanatically, “That’s great, Clark. It’s fantastic. You and me, we’re going to be the best.”

Clark nods, a blush creeps up his neck, and wills himself not to spew the countless apologies and pleas stuck in his throat, “See you around, Lex.”

Lex gives him one last smile and Clark flees none too proud of the way his pants have tented by just talking with him.

He’s got to get these teenage hormones under control.

 

* * *

  

Clark inwardly sighs as Whitney accosts him out of jealousy, “You’re this years, Scarecrow, farm-boy. You feeling lucky yet?” 

Grumbling, Clark says, “I don’t want to deal with you right now, Whitney. I have better things to do.”

Whitney sneers and pins Clark to the floor,“Well too bad, farm boy. You don’t get to decide what you have to deal with. Now, what’s going on with you and Lana?”

Clark glares at Whitney, at Lana’s necklace that mocks him with it’s sickly twinkle, and hates that Nell has a morbid sense of commemoration.

Whitney ties Lana’s necklace around his neck, “It’s as close as you’ll ever get to her. If you ever think about even coming close to her..  _ Don’t _ _._ ”

Deja-vu sweeps over Clark as they load him into a truck and he curses his nonexistent immunity to Kryptonite. The coming hours were going to be filled with boredom and pain but at the very least he would get to see Lex.

Clark tries to minimize his contact with Lana’s necklace, as they string him up like is tradition. The jocks he doesn’t bother to remember, heckle him as they leave. Jibbing and calling him names, that would’ve hurt if he was actually an insecure teenager. Whitney shoots him a smug smile and hollers as they leave for the school dance.

Clark groans in agony and boredom waiting for the sun to set. For Lex to finally leave the plant and free him from his restraints. It brings out a strange sense of humor in him to remember that he used to be quite the damsel in distress before he had any of his powers. Feeling strangely humble Clark hears Lex beginning to leave and starts to call for help.

He shouts as Lex’s Porsche stops abruptly, as Lex listens for a voice in countless ears of eerie corn.

A light pierces through the darkness and Lex looks at him in worry and shock.

“Clark? Who the hell did this to you?”

As Lex begins to pull the rope off of his legs and arms, Clark falls to the floor boneless.

The sickly sheen of Lana’s Kryptonite necklace annoys him to no end, before Lex picks it up and arches an eyebrow at him. “Yours?”

Sitting up wearily, Clark’s hoarse voice says, “No. And it doesn’t matter, Lex. It’s just some high school tradition and I was the unlucky-”

Lex stoops down, holding Clark’s face in his hands, “What do you mean it doesn’t matter? This isn’t just some silly school tradition, Clark. You could’ve gotten hurt. The guy that day of the meteor shower got hurt didn’t he? Obviously no one has been paying attention to all the idiocy still going on.”

Clark pretends to be tired, lets Lex haul him up into his arms, and slowly dress him, “We should go see a doctor, see if there’s anything wrong-”

Clark gripes, all the while enjoying Lex’s hands running over his body, “I really don’t want to see a doctor right now, Lex. Doubt we could even afford it. Can I just get a ride home?”

Lex looks him up and down and sighs, “I have a feeling you’re not going to back down, even if I offer to pay?”

He smiles resting his head on Lex’s shoulder and teases, “Look at you, you already know me so well. All I really want is to sleep on my bed. Maybe then I won’t be so sore.”

Lex snorts and helps Clark get into his porsche, “Guess I should get you a new mattress then. Doubt anyone could get a good sleep after being tied up for hours. Not even a check up?”

Clark startles as Lex’s clips his seatbelt on, “Don’t even try, Lex. With the check up or the mattress. Next thing you know my dad’ll make me sleep in the barn.”

Closing the door and getting into the drivers side, Lex takes in Clark’s rumpled form and his eyes narrow. He turns the radio on low, begins to drive, and casually asks, “So, are you going to tell me who did this to you?”

Sighing, Clark says, “Just some jocks from school, Lex. I don’t even remember their names. After this they won’t even remember me.”

Lex clutches the steering wheel tighter, “And what if they do?”

“They won’t, Lex. I just had some bad luck is all.”

Lex keeps his eyes on the road, but Clark can feel a strong enmity coming from him. His voice is quietly irate as he talks, “Can you at least _remember_ their faces, Clark? Point them out to me if I happen to drop by?”

“I think I might, but please don’t do anything...rash. I do have to keep going to school there you know.”

Lex smiles pointedly, “I promise, nothing rash or over the top. Lets just hope your father doesn’t think I had anything to do with these jocks, yeah?”

Clark laughs, “I’ll explain it to him, Lex. Don’t worry about it. I’m pretty sure they did scarecrows back then too.”

Lex hums in agreement and the rest of the drive is spent in a comfortable silence.

Lex holds Clark steady as they hobble to his front door. Leaning on the wood, and jiggling the doorknob, Clark smiles at Lex, “Thanks for the help, Lex. Doubt anyone would’ve noticed I was gone until first bell.”

Lex grins eyes dark with ardor, and subtly cages him in, “I would’ve noticed. You might not think so, but you’re hard to miss, Clark. After all we’re best friends aren’t we?”

Smiling ear to ear like a buffoon, Clark nods and breathes in the woody amber of Lex’s cologne, “We definitely are. Thanks again, I’ll see you soon?”

Lex looks him in the eyes, “Of course, Clark. I hope you have a good night’s rest. And remember those faces, I’d hate to see them get away for messing with you.”

Lex walks off into the brisk night towards his porsche, drives off, and Clark almost melts on the doorstep.

_ Almost. _

He gently opens the door, careful of the way it squeaks when he least expects it, and tiptoes towards the stairs.

A resounding smack disturbs the quiet, as Jonathan and Martha Kent simultaneously put down their books and turn on the living room lights. Martha dryly asks, “And just what were you doing out so late at night, Clark Kent,  after  you said you weren’t going to the dance?”

His father's’ rough voice indignantly starts, “With Lex Luthor of all people?! This is how it starts, Martha. Small and innocuous, so we wave it off and next thing you know Luthor is trying to-”

Clark rubs his face wearily, and cuts his father off before he begins to rant further, “ I was this years’ scarecrow, Dad. I got hung up by the Luthor plant, and Lex happened to hear me calling for help. For the record this wasn’t Lex’s fault dad. Some jocks at school managed to get the jump on me because of Lana’s necklace.”

Martha and Jonathan trade looks of surprise,“Her necklace? Are you sure, son?”

Clark nods, “I could’ve taken them all-”

Martha gives him a look of disapproval, but Clark carries on, “But I  _ didn’t _ . When they put Lana’s necklace around me, I felt all of my strength leave me. I felt so weak. I couldn’t even stand.”

Jonathan’s eyebrows furrow, “Then I guess you’ll just have to keep your distance, son. From Lana and those jocks. We don’t want you getting hurt, when we don’t understand why you got hurt, yeah?”

Martha and Jonathan give him a quick hug, and he replies muffled, savoring the feel of their warmth, “Yeah, dad. I’ll keep away. Can’t promise that they won’t come looking for me...but I’ll do what I can.”

Martha pats his head, “Now get to bed. You have school tomorrow, and no doubt you’re tired.”

Relieved, Clark races up the stairs, into his room and gracelessly falls onto his bed.

Time travel, acting, and meteor mutants really did tire him out. But at least he’s here again. At least he has another chance to make everything alright. Another chance to be with Lex.

 


	2. Metamorphasis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tell him I’d appreciate it if he and his posse stayed away from Clark Kent. You don’t seem like a bad person Ms.Lang but accidents happen when you group up with the wrong crowd.” Lana Lang's eyes narrow as Lex Luthor walks away.
> 
> Whitney is on a one sided crusade against Clark Kent and Greg Arkins isn't really a problem at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short, dialogue heavy chapter!! Wow, I am slowly working my way towards the destruction of Lana/Whitney and towards the Chlana!
> 
> The Clex is strong in this one, as if always shall be. 
> 
> Here's to hoping for a once a week update! Although technically this was a day late...shhh.
> 
> Also Greg Arkin...who is he??? Lol Freaks of the Week seem like they're going to be a small part of the chapters honest. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy and comment!! Much love to you all.

“I'm lonely. And I'm lonely in some horribly deep way and for a flash of an instant, I can see just how lonely, and how deep this feeling runs.” - Augusten Burroughs

 

 

Clark hunches over with a bloodied Lex in his arms, tears streaming down his face.

Lex looks up at him and smiles grimly, “Guess we never were meant to stay friends were we, Clark?”

“Please,” Clark begs the dying man in his arms, “You’ll be alright. I _know_ you Lex, you al-”

Lex coughts wetly, “There’s nothing that can save me. I suppose you’ll be happy enough with me gone; a shame I didn’t get the chance to _ruin_ you, Clark.”

His blue eyes are delirious with pain, and Clark would have never wished this death on him, “No. _No._ Lex- I can’t let you die. You can’t die. Not here. Not like this. I never wanted you dead. I just wanted _my_ Lex back. Please, Lex, do _something_!”

Lex smiles, something like remorse and longing seeping into his eyes, “You can’t save everyone, Clark. You always had trouble learning that one.”

Clark cries out in agony as Lex’s heart stops beating. His screams fill Metropolis with all his sorrow and helplessness - and the world is never the same again.

 

* * *

 

Clark wakes with a start. A horrible start. Lex’s bloodied body flashes behind his eyelids reminding him of his failures.

He floats and broods - spiraling deeper into his own helplessness.

Martha’s voice cuts through Clark’s sadness, “Clark, we’re leaving for the Farmer’s Market, in 15 minutes-”

Clark flies down the stairs and embraces his mother with the desperation of a drowning man.  
  
Voice gruff with emotion he breathes in deeply and all his tension fades, “Morning, Ma, I’ll get right on my chores.”

“Are you okay, Clark? Sleeping alright?” Martha’s voice is muffled, pressed so close to Clark’s shoulder.

Releasing his mother, Clark laughs, “I’m great Ma, I’m just...realizing I have great parents and I should appreciate them more.”

Martha pinches his cheeks, and ruffles his hair, “Say what you will, Flatterer, you’re not getting out of your chores. Now, go get dressed.”

Heading towards the stairs, Clark grumbles, “I wasn’t trying to, Ma.”

Martha smiles, starts to go outside, then yells, “And hurry it up, we’ve got to get to the Farmer’s Market on time!”

 

* * *

 

Clark hammers the nail in place, hangs the hammer from his belt loops and turns when he feels someone approach him. 

“Clark, I didn’t see you at the dance last night.” Lana’s eyes light up with curiosity.

Clark pastes a fake smile on his face, “I was a little tied up..Lana. I didn’t really feel like going out either.”

Martha cuts in putting herself in between the two, “Ms.Lang, I hear you were homecoming queen. How did that go? Jonathan, here won’t talk about anything _but_ the game.”

Lana is slowly pulled away from Clark, “ _Lana_ , please, Mrs.Kent. It was actually-”

Shuffling, Clark shouts to his father, “I’ll go get the rest of the boxes out of the trunk, Pa.”

Clapping Clark on the shoulder Whitney says, “I’ll help. Seems like a heavy job.”

As soon as they’re alone Whitney starts talking, “Last night was just a joke, Kent, you know that right? It’s just tradition.”

Clark scoffs, “Tradition, _right_. You and your jock friends leave me alone and I won’t-”

Whitney begins to crowd Clark, “I need that necklace back, Kent. I couldn’t care less about your problems. But that’s Lana’s favorite necklace...”

Clark rolls his eyes, “I don’t have it. If you really want it back you’ll have to start looking.” 

He walks away sighing, annoyed with Whitney’s one sided rivalry.

Clark stares as Whitney leaves, wondering how much he can take before he gives in and punches him in the face. Part of him knows it’s very childish to hate him. Whitney is still a child, and Clark should be the better person but his patience can only go so far. Undoubtedly his hormones are a bigger problem than he ever thought they would be.

Lex strolls up to him, “Can’t knock your taste in women. You want to tell me if you remembered any faces today?”

Clark chokes on his own spit, careful not to drop the basket of apples in his hands, “I’m n-not staring at Lana. She’s just friend. A friend. We’re _friends_. Uhm...I was looking at Whitney. Not that I _like_ him-"

Lex laughs as Clark fumbles for the words to explain himself, and steals an apple.

He stares as Whitney’s truck leaves, face expressionless but eyes narrowing, “Whitney, huh? Even the Romans saved being tied up to a stake for special occasions. You could have died out there, Clark. I’m surprise you’re only sore. No problems standing or muscle pain?”

Clark looks at Lex, sees the worry hiding in his eyes, and pats him gently, resting the basket on his hip, “I’m fine, Lex. A little sore but I guess it could’ve been worse. I’ll see if I can’t remember any more-”

Jonathan eyes Lex with apprehension, “What the hold up, son? We’ve gotta get home and take care of this produce.”

Lex hovers near Clark, smiling he reaches out to offer his hand, “Mr.Kent, it’s good to see you. The produce is delicious as always.”

Shaking Lex’s hand, Jonathan begins shifting uncomfortably. He sighs and starts, “Thank you, Lex. You helped out my boy last night. We would’ve spent all night worried if you hadn’t brought him back. Martha and I are... _grateful_ for your help.”

Lex’s eyes widen in surprise before he masks it completely, “You’re welcome, Mr.Kent, but I’m positive anyone would’ve done the same. Clark is a good person and he certainly didn’t deserve what happened to him. I’m actually looking for the people who did this and why the tradition has  continued for so long despite it being so harmful.”

Jonathan nods his head, and clears his throat, “Well. We’ll be on our way, Lex. Once again, thank you.”

Jonathan walks off quickly, and Clark’s grin is wide enough to split his face in half. “He actually said thank you! Wow, I wasn’t expecting that, and he’s my dad.”

Clark grins wider as Lex subtly fills with pride at being acknowledged by Jonathan. “I certainly didn’t expect that either, Clark. Here I thought that I’d only get a handshake.”

Clark gives Lex a quick hug, “Well, maybe things are finally looking up! See you Lex, gotta get going.”

Lex smirks, waves goodbye and bites into his apple. Watching Clark follow his father towards their truck, Lex’s smirk softens into a genuine smile.

 

 

* * *

  


Clark sighs as his dad hangs up the phone, “Whitney is gonna be alright. He doesn’t remember anything besides something hitting his car and waking up in an ambulance.”  

Clark hums, the wind ruffling his hair, as the stand on the front porch,  “That’s good. I’m gonna go do some chores, dad. Can you talk with Ma? I think she’s freaked out with the whole I didn’t die from an explosion thing.”

  
Jonathan kisses his forehead, “Freaked out, yes but we’re also very proud. You saved his life, Clark, even if you don’t think the kindest of him. Just don’t go putting yourself in so much danger okay, son? We worry too, you know.”

Clark smiles and hugs his father, “I know, dad. I love you.”

Unwrapping his arms from Clark, Jonathan pats his head, “Love you too, son. Now go do your chores and get started on that homework.”

Clark watches as Jonathan heads inside and feigns going into his barn. Hopefully he’s not too late to save Mrs.Arkin.

 

* * *

 

Lex watches as Lana Lang rides her horse into the stable and dismounts, “Your form's good but his gait's off. Might want to check his shoes. Lex Luthor. I’m a friend of your aunt’s. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Lana.”

Lana hangs her saddle on the pen’s fencing,“We’ve already met, _Mr.Luthor_.”

Lex arches an eyebrow, “If you say so _Ms.Lang_.” Lex wanders over to her trophy case and Lana mutters, “It’s tacky, I know, but it makes my Aunt Nell happy.”

Pointing at her picture Lex says, “That’s an unusual necklace, Ms.Lang.”

Clutching her chest, Lana grabs emptiness, “Thanks. It’s special to me.” 

“How come you’re not wearing it?” He continues pretending to be interested in her trophy case.  
  
“I lent it to my boyfriend, for his game.” Lana answers cautiously, unsure of why Lex Luthor of all people wants to know her personal story.  
  
Lex hums, “Lucky charms do have their ways. What’s his name?”  
  
“W-Whitney Fordman.” Lana answers quietly, unnerved by Lex's questions.  
  
Lex is quiet for a moment, then abruptly says, “The one Clark saved today?”  
  
Lana smiles timidly, “Yeah. He was really lucky the Kents’ were driving behind him and that Clark acted so fast.”  
  
Lex chuckles but something vindictive lurks inside his eyes and sets Lana on edge, “I know the feeling. Whitney isn’t the only one who's been saved _a-la-Kent_. When you go visit him again ask your boyfriend what he was doing before the big game.”  
  
Lana puts a hand on her hip, “He was with me.”  
  
Lex Luthor looks into her eyes and chills run down her spine, “Are you _that_ sure? Also, tell him I’d _appreciate_ it if he and his posse stayed away from Clark Kent. You don’t seem like a bad person Ms.Lang but accidents happen when you group up with the wrong crowd.”

Lex waves his goodbye, as Lana stares at him eyes narrowing, “Tell your Aunt I stopped by. Have a good day, Ms.Lang.”

 

* * *

 

Clark turns the door knob with his gloves on and listens to Mrs.Arkin yelling as Greg continues his monologue. He quietly creeps up the stairs, and motions for her to be quiet, holding a finger up to his lips.

“Hey mom, did I ever tell you about the Pharaoh spider? It’s a fascinating creature. See, after it hatches, it kills its mother.”

Greg opens his mouth and the first webs begin to shoot out. Mrs.Arkin stills with horror and Clark charges at Greg knocking him out silently. He knocks Greg out quickly and turns to Mrs.Arkin. She quivers in fear and can barely look at her son.

“What happened to my son? That - that _thing_ is not my son. Where did Greg go? Did it eat my son?!” Her body shakes with sobs. Clark holds the hysterical woman and slowly coaxes her to stop crying.

He holds her hands and looks into her eyes, “I don’t know what’s wrong with Greg, Mrs.Arkin but we’ll get him help okay?”   
  
Mrs.Arkin nods, grateful tears in her eyes, “Thank you, Clark. You always seemed like a good boy.”  
  
He smiles at her, thankful he managed to save her life, “Call the police Mrs.Arkin, they’ll take care of the rest. And, please, don’t mention me?”

Mrs.Arkin sniffles, “I won’t mention you. Thank you so much, Clark. I would be dead without you. I-I don’t know what you do, or what power you have but I don’t care. I’ll just tell them Greg suddenly collapsed after trying to eat me. I’m so grateful. I’m so grateful.”

She gives Clark one last shaky hug before hurrying off to the home phone and ringing the police.

When she looks up, Clark Kent is gone with the wind but she is alive.

 

* * *

 

Clark sits down and stares at the miniature battlefield on Lex’s table and curses Lionel Luthor for never giving Lex a childhood. At times it seemed all Lionel ever let Lex know about the world was war and opportunity.  
  
Lex steps into the room, and smiles at him, “Save any lives on the way over? You keep it up and you could make a career out of it.”

Clark’s lips twitch at Lex’s unknowing irony, “I was just dropping off your produce. No life saving besides Whitney, so far... planning a Trojan invasion?”

“Only if your name is _Helen_ , Clark. You also seem to be lacking some womanly attributes. My father gave this to me when I was nine.”

“Hmph, Cool gift. Seems a bit excessive thought for a nine year old though.”  
  
“It wasn’t a gift, it was a strategy tool. My father equates Business with War.”

“That, and most of life it seems,” Lex shoots him a playful look, and Clark chuckles, “ _Jokes_ , Lex.”

“So, you and Whitney, not good friends I take it?” Lex closes in on Clark and they stand shoulders brushing together.  
  
“If ‘not good friends’ is what you want to call it, why not?” Clark looks down at the table and struggles not to fidget at Lex's closeness.  
  
Lex’s breath is cool on his face, and smells faintly of apples and mint,“I thought you didn’t like Lana. Why the fighting?”  
  
Groaning Clark rubs his face, “You mean, why is _he_ fighting. Lana is just a friend, but Whitney has it in his head that I _love_ Lana or something.”  
  
“So, he’s jealous,” Lex muses.  
  
Clark grumbles, “God knows why, there isn’t exactly women lining up the block to date me you know?”

Lex’s mouth twitches up into a smile, “Well, he must see you as some sort of competition, Clark,” He looks Clark in the eyes, “I can see why. Who doesn’t like a guy who saves lives.”  
Clark snorts, “They also say I’m not half bad at playing pool. But who knows, guess I’m wrapped in mystery.”

Smiling Lex shows Clark a lead box and slowly opens the box enough to see the necklace inside, “What’s it made out of?” Clark questions, feeling rather nauseous.    
  
“Lead. My mother bought it in a Kasbah in Morocco. They told her it was made from the armor of St. George, the patron saint of boy scouts. She gave it to me before she died. I think she was trying to send me a message. But I don’t need a patron saint. I’ve got an angel of my own.”

Clark struggles not to smile at the look Lex gives him, and instead pretends to be embarrassed.

“Are you alright, Clark?” Concern laces Lex’s voice.

“Yeah. It’s just it..it makes me feel light headed and a bit nauseous.” Clark feels green around his nonexistent gills, and the world spins strangely.

Worried, Lex closes it quickly and helps steady Clark but his eyes flicker with curiosity.

He gently presses it into Clark’s arms, “Here, take it but don’t open it until you see her. Give it to Lana. I know you said you only think of her as a friend, so consider this just another point towards becoming Smallville’s Greatest Good Samaritan.”  
  
“Lex, I can’t take that.”  
  
Petulantly Lex sighs, “What is it about Kents' and gifts? It’s yours. I’m not taking no for an answer, Clark. If you really don’t want her knowing you gave it back, do it anonymously. Maybe it’ll sort out some problems with you and Whitney as well.”  
  
Sighing, Clark begrudgingly grabs the lead box. “Thank you, Lex.”

Lex laughs, and claps Clark on his shoulder, “Come on, Mr.Mystery, let's go see if _they_ are right. Not half bad seems like enough of a challenge for me tonight.”

Snickering, Clark follows Lex out of the room, “You are so on, Lex. Be prepared to be defeated.”  
  
“Only in your dreams, Kent. Only in your dreams.”

Their laughter rings in the halls of Luthor manor - Clark had forgotten what it felt like to be so happy.

 

* * *

 

Lana leans on the wall as Whitney opens his locker, “Where were you before the game on Saturday?”

Whitney looks at her, tired, “Can we talk about this later, Lana?”  
  
Lana bites her lip, “It’s a simple question, Whitney.”  
  
“I was warming up with the team.” Whitney shoves books in his locker and then turns to Lana.

“So you didn’t grab Clark with the rest of the guys and hang him up in a field?”

Exasperated Whitney says, “Lana, it’s a prank that happens every year, it’s tradition!”

Lana’s eyebrows furrow, “A prank that more than ten years ago put a guy in a coma, Whitney!”  
  
“Why do you even care, Lana? It’s just Kent.”

Anger seeped into Lana’s eyes, “Why do I even care? He’s my friend, Whitney. I shouldn’t have to convince you that just because I’ve never really talked with someone they shouldn’t be treated with human decency.”

Whitney rolls his eyes, “You barely know Kent, Lana. There’s no need to be so worried about him.”

Knuckles white, Lana clenches her fists, whispering furiously, “Well clearly, Lex Luthor is. He doesn’t want you or the others going anywhere _near_ , Clark, Whitney! I know that Lex Luthor isn’t like his dad because he _warned_ me. Please, Whitney, just don’t go near him. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you or to anyone else. This isn’t a situation you can ignore. I know what people say about the Luthors and it’s trouble we don’t need.”

  
Lana sighs rubbing her eyes, clearly tired.

Whitney squeezes her shoulder and agrees, “ _Fine_. I’ll keep away from Kent, as long as he keeps away from you.”

She grasps up to her neck and frowns, then asks,“ _Fine._ Could I please have my necklace back?”

Whitney’s eyes widen and he shifts guiltily, “I lost it.”

Lana’s jaw clenches as she says, “Were you even going to tell me?”

“Lana, I-”

Lana throws off his hand and runs off in anger before Whitney can begin to make excuses for himself. She needed to cool down before talking with Clark. _Did she really need to talk with Clark?_  Hiding in a deserted hallway, Lana hesitated remembering Lex Luthor's _warning_.

 

* * *

  


The moon glowed softly and the stars twinkled bright.  
  
Clark hovered close to Lana’s front door and questioned whether he should give her back her necklace at all. He hesitated before opening the lead box with Lana’s necklace and stared.

Sighing, he whispered, “Well, here goes nothing.”

He grabbed it hastily, face contorted with pain, and hung it on her door knob.

He knocked gently once, _twice_ , and ran away with the box, thankful that he didn’t love Lana as he did in his past.

Lana never _needed_ him.

Lex _always_ had.

 


	3. X-Ray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark apologizes to Tina Greer, wishes her a long and peaceful rest, wraps his hands around her neck and twists.
> 
> Clark looks at his mother, "I thought you guys hated him because he’s a Luthor.”
> 
> Martha sighs, “We don’t hate him, Clark."
> 
> Lana hugs Chloe then whispers, "Clark is a good person, I know that but...Lex Luthor isn’t."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Sorry about this being like 3 days late? But honestly this is 8k+ and wow am I beat.  
> It doesn't help that Hourglass is shaping up to be hella long as well. Maybe longer...we'll see.
> 
> I had a blast writing this chapter, and I finally got to end a chapter on one bomb ass change!!!! It's awesome.  
> The Lana/Whitney destruction is imminent sometime this season with more hopeful Chlana in s2 (I hope, such a long way to go though, so I may change my plans).
> 
> Also Lex is getting intense and idk how to handle that man. No one can handle that man.  
> Thanks for all the kudos, and reviews, you all keep my spirit alive and thriving!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy and comment!!! Much love to you all!

 

“Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged.” - Samuel Johnson

 

* * *

 

Clark watched Tina Greer sleep, and quelled the abhorrence twisting in his gut, the moon glinting in his cold eyes.  
  
He gently shook her awake and stepped back when her eyes shot open and focused on him.  
  
“Hello, Tina. It’s...something to see you again. I wouldn’t call it pleasant though.”

Tina’s face twisted with confusion, before she tried to call for her mother stumbling out of her bed.

Smiling Clark covered her mouth with his hands, and forced her still. He no longer doubted himself like he did in the past and it showed.

“Now, Tina, don’t panic. Your mother is okay. Just sleeping off a dose of sleeping pills.” 

He looks into her confused and angry eyes, whispering low in her ear, “All the things you do. All the pain you cause and the lives you _ruin_. You’ll never get a chance to do that again. Don’t worry, I’ll make it seem like you ran away. After a month or two no one will bother looking and the world will spin on, Tina.”

She thrashes in his arms. Tries to break free from the steel constriction he has on her body, but she is weak and without doubts in his mind Clark is stronger than he ever was.  

Clark apologizes and wishes her a long and peaceful rest as he wraps his hands around her neck and _twists_ .  
  
He rests her against the wall and stares for a moment at how different Tina Greer’s death was this time around. Shaking himself from memories he begins to finalize Tina Greer’s abrupt departure, making it seem like an unhappy teen’s need to get away from Smallville and a distant parent. He places a forged letter on unmade bed, unrepentant and angry, showing Tina Greer as nothing more than an upset girl tired with her lot in life.   
  
Nothing like the obsessive madman she would’ve become.

He puts the pencil down with gloved hands and sighs with relief. Now, unless something radical happened, Van McNulty wouldn’t start hunting down metahumans. He stuffs valuables, and articles of clothing into her worn backpack. He destroys Tina’s phone so that only ashes are left and lets them be carried by the wind from the open window. He hefts her body onto his shoulder along with the pack and takes off into the sky making sure to leave a trail of foliage indicating her leaving.

Out in the woods he lays a trail to a bus stop -  just in case her departure is hard for her mother to believe - and dogs happen to come sniffing. He is thankful that Smallville is so rural, bus stops do not have cameras. Deep into the forest he digs a hole with his super speed and sets flame to Tina Greer’s body, backpack, and valuables. He mimics a small forest fire due to the dry condition of the forest by lighting matchsticks and letting them catch trees on fire. He knows the fire brigade will come, but that won’t be until the sun rises. By then it would be too late and only ashes would remain.  

Clark floated into the air and sighed, “Two down, thousands more to go.” He yawned and shot into the early morning sky. His bed was calling him.

 

* * *

 

“Morning, Clark. Did you do your chores?” Martha shuffled around the kitchen preparing breakfast. The sun barely rising across the horizon faintly lit the Kent Farm.

Clark yawns and walks into the kitchen, “Yeah. Just finished. What’s for breakfast?”

Martha pulls Clark in for a hug, “Omelets with ham and cheese, and the muffins are almost done. Now whisk the eggs, please.”

Clark smiles at his mother, puts on apron and slowly begins whisking the eggs. Jonathan steps into kitchen, wearing a different shirt after his morning chores. “Morning. Where’s the newspaper?”

Martha points with the knife and continues chopping ham. “What happened in the world today?”  
  
Jonathan sits at the table and skims the newspaper. “Just some corrupt politician in Metropolis. You think these people stop when they know they have enough money.”

Martha, finished with the ham, begins grating cheese while Clark starts making the omelets.

“You want extra cheese, dad?”

Jonathan flips the page shaking his head, “Yes, please. Honestly, some people live to cause trouble. Apparently LuthorCorp is-”

Clark flips the omlet, and Martha dropping the block of cheese, startles at the soft rap at the door.

“Knock knock.” Lex Luthor gently taps on the screen door, “May I come in?”

Jonathan shoots Clark a look and Martha smiles, “Lex, we didn’t hear you pull up. Please, come in.”

Clark smiles, and waves with the spatula in his hand, “Morning, Lex. Still feeling the defeat of last night’s pool match?”  
  
Lex laughs stepping into the Kent house, looking slightly out of place in the homey kitchen, “I believe that ache has been soothed over night.”  
  
Martha lets go of the cheese, washes her hands and beckons Lex to sit at the table, “Would you like to stay for breakfast, Lex? Unless, you have business to attend to of course.”

Lex smiles warmly at Martha, and sits, “I wouldn’t want to be a bother, Mrs.Kent. I just wanted to drop by and talk with Clark.”

Martha scuttles to take the muffins from the oven, as Jonathan warily smiles at Lex, “It’s no bother, Lex. Please, join us.”

Clark turned away from the table raises his brow as his father cements the breakfast invitation for Lex. He flips several omelets onto plates and sprinkles more cheese on top, cheerfully he says, “Breakfast is ready. Yours included, Lex.”

Lex gives him a wry smile, “I guess I’ll stay if you’re so insistent.”

Clark takes the plates to the table and puts them in front of everyone. Martha places the muffin tin in the middle of the table along with a pitcher of orange juice and everyone begins to dig in with gusto. Clark stretches in his chair, and fills his glass with orange juice, he lifts the pitcher and gestures to Lex, “Want some?”

“ _Please_. The omelet is lovely, Mrs.Kent, Clark.”

Martha smiles and Clark flushes faintly, “Martha, please Lex.”

As breakfast continues in a peaceful manner, Clark and Martha almost let out relieved sighs. Jonathan Kent and Lex Luthor ate peacefully without a single harsh word instead having pointless small talk without stepping on each others toes.

After having finished breakfast, Martha and Jonathan cleaned up shooting Clark curious looks while he pulled Lex to the porch. Rocking on his feet, Clark asked, “So..what did you want to talk about, Lex?”

Lex teases Clark, “What, aren’t I allowed to drop by with no reason? I don’t exactly have produce to drop off.”

Clark laughs and playfully punches Lex’s shoulder, “Stop _teasing_ , Lex. You know you can drop by whenever. Although-” Clark winces as a sharp pain stabs through his head.

The smiles slips off of Lex’s face, and worry takes its place, “Are you okay, Clark?”

Rubbing his forehead, Clark squints, “F-fine. Just a headache. It took forever to get to sleep last night. I probably didn’t get enough sleep.”

Lex nods, unsure of whether to push Clark to tell the truth, “If you’re sure, Clark.”

“Clark, any later and you’ll be late for school,” Martha yells from inside the house.

“Thanks, ma,” Clark yells back. He gives Lex a hug, “I’d better get going. Ms. Taylor will murder me if I’m late. That bus is faster than a hummingbird, I swear that bus driver hates me or something.”

Lex hugs back, but pulls Clark’s wrist as he makes to leave, “How about I give you a ride?”

Clark arches a brow, “Serious?”

Lex smirks at him, “As I always am.”

Clark sticks his head inside the window, “Ma, Lex is gonna give me a ride to school.”

Martha smiles, yelling at a Lex’s retreating back, “Thank you, Lex. I packed some muffins for you. Be careful or else Clark will eat them all while you’re driving.”

Clark pouts at his mother through the window, but heads inside and takes Lex’s packaged muffins along with an extra two muffins. He stuffs one in his mouth, a tight grip on the other.

A muffled, “I’m _growing_ ,” manages to come out of Clark’s mouth without the muffin falling to the floor at the look his mother gives him while his father happily shakes his head. Clark slings his backpack over his shoulder, and heads outside.

Muffled by chewing, Clark shouts, “Bye, Dad. Bye, Ma. See you after school,” before he hurriedly races towards Lex waiting in his Porsche, his parents laughter follows him out the door.

 

* * *

 

Clark winces as the pain comes again while Lex drives him to school. Lex looks at him, worried, but Clark fakes a smile until it becomes real and threatens to split his face.

"You're rather happy all of a sudden, Clark."

Pink tinges Clark's cheeks and he tries to speak calmly, rationally, _normally_ , "You and dad got along great today. You even sat down to have breakfast! I'm happy he's coming around and is trying to be nicer. Also, Ma loves you. I just know, Lex. I _know_."

Lex nods a blush creeping up his neck, pleased with the Kents’ new attitude towards him. Confused, Lex tries not to tense as he continues to feel Clark's eyes periodically looking over him.

Inwardly, Clark screams, as his X-ray vision kicks in at the best and worst time ever.

Best because he can see Lex driving his car, very, very _naked_ and _wow_ did he forget how attractive Lex was.

Worst because it's _Lex_ , and Lex was nothing if not observant towards anything he does that was _weird_. Clark tries not to look but Lex is utterly distracting with his creamy skin uncovered by the layer of clothes. It takes all of Clark’s willpower to not throw himself on Lex, mostly because Lex would be confused and Clark wouldn’t be able to explain.

Lex eyes him warily for a second, before his eyes settle on the road once again, “Are you sure you’re up for school, Clark? Constant headaches aren’t good for you.”

Clark looks out the window, willing himself to look away from the provocative picture Lex paints. He speaks with a calm he forget he could fake, “Relax, Lex. I’m fine. Nothing a nap in my free period won’t fix. How’s work going?”

A small vein on Lex’s forehead emerges, and he spits out a disgruntled, “Fine.”

Clark winces, inwardly sighs, and once again changes the subject, “Can I have a muffin, Lex?”

Lex squawks at his greediness before pulling over and all but snatches the package away from his hands. He places it in the trunk, before racing back to his seat and revving the engine, flying down the street. He eyes Clark insistent pout once they come to a stop light, “You had your muffins. Those are _mine_.”

Clark sulks surprised at Lex’s protective instincts towards his mother’s muffins, “And I can’t have just _one_?”

Lex’s eyes narrow, “ _No._ ”

They stare at each other for a moment and then break into laughter, the drive to school carefree and lively.

Clark arrives at school right on time with a smile bright enough to outshine the sun. He walks to class before the first bell rings, eyes alight with happiness.

 

_Rao, how he loved Lex._

 

* * *

 

“Can I sit this one out, Coach? My head hurts.” Clark rubs his temple and groans as it throbs slightly.

Pete pats his shoulder sympathetically, “Come on, man. Get through the ropes and if we’re lucky the laps won’t be so bad.”

“Nonsense, Kent. Just need to get some blood pumping. You and Ross are next.” Coach Henry motions to the hanging ropes and as they begin to climb he yells, “Kent, if Ross beats you, it’s ten laps! Come on, move it!”

Clark climbs the rope higher and higher resigning himself to the headache he knows is coming. He stares at Pete’s worried face and falls from rope - his headache coming to a crescendo - and sees the muscle beneath their bodies. Pulsing and stretching, red and blue coming together, and Clark almost heaves his breakfast up. Seeing muscles and nerves was always perturbing and even more so when he didn’t have any control over it.

  
Coach Henry helps Clark stand before he motions for Pete to come closer. “Ross, take Kent to the nurses office. Have them give him the rest of the day off. A fall like that isn’t good for anyone. Have them check for a concussion.”

Pete nods and hooks Clark’s arm around his shoulder, “Don’t worry, man. I’ve got you. Must’ve been one hell of headache, yeah?”

Clark groans, as his vision flickers in between x-ray and normalcy, and mutters out,“I hate my life.”

Pete playfully rolls his eyes, “Cheer up man, it’ll get better. Besides, you got me out of running laps, best friend ever! Maybe you’ll get the rest of the day off!”

Arm on shoulder, Clark bashfully smiled as they walked slowly to the nurses’ office and Pete continued his rapid chattering. It was good to have friends again, Clark mused, he’d missed them more than he’d thought.

 

* * *

  


Martha sat on the couch, arms wrapped around Clark’s shoulders, staring down at her confused son, “So, when you have these flashes, you can see through anything? People, objects?”

Clark shifts closer to his mother and rests his head on her shoulder, “I can see through things, walls, buildings. Other times it’s like an x-ray and I can see muscles...nerves..bone.”

Jonathan frowns as Clark avoids looking at them and instead acts like the floor is the most interesting thing in the world.

Jonathan hugs Clark and Martha, his voice is low, but worried, “And there’s no warning? Just happens out of the blue?”

Clark looks up at the ceiling, “I get a headache or my temples throb before it happens. Then this pain goes through my eyes. I thought I was hallucinating the first time it happened.”

Martha kisses his head, but her arms wrap tighter around his body, “I’m sure there’s some way to control it, Clark.”

 “I don’t know _how,_ mom. I don’t know, and I’m scared. How am I supposed to live with this, dad?” Clark tries to curl in on himself as Martha and Jonathan comfort him.

“These things have off switches, Clark. Sometimes, uh,” Jonathan starts talking hesitantly, “You have to practice at something to get better at it. All muscles need practice so you can control them, your eyes might be the same.”

Clark nods miserably, soaking in the comfort his parents freely give him, eyes closed and headache building.

Huddled in between his parents, he whispers, “Thanks Ma, Dad. I love you.”

They both smile at him and answer in unison, “We love you too, Clark.”

 

* * *

 

Clark waits for his mother to leave Nell’s flower shop, head hanging low and wincing ever so often. His heart races when he sees a sea of muscles and nerves, the color enough to set him on edge.

“Did it happen again?” bustling out of the shop, Martha gently rubs his shoulders, “Maybe we should've gone home after the doctors. We should wait for this to pass.”

Clark shakes his head, “No. I’ll be fine. Didn’t you need to go to the antique shop?”

Martha looks at him worried before nodding. “Okay, but if you don’t feel up to it, you go rest in the truck. I don’t want you walking home. What if something happens?”

Clark sighs, “I will.”

They take a quick walk towards the antique shop, bustling in but pausing when they notice the police throughout the shop.

Martha hurries towards the pacing woman, “Rose, what happened? Was it a robbery?”

She takes one look towards Martha, and almost bursts into tears, “My Tina. She’s gone. I’m such an awful mother. Why didn’t I notice?”

Clark hangs back towards the entrance, as Martha consoles the harried woman, “Is Tina okay? Is she in the hospital?”

Rose shakes her head, “She’s _gone_ . Took some money, her clothes, and left a letter. Sh-she _hated_ it here, said she felt tied down. That I didn’t want her to be who she really _was,_ so she decided it was better to leave.”

Rose’s chest heaves with the harsh breathes she takes, tears running down her face. Clark stares at her and wonders if she knew the truth, if she’d be happy to be alive.

He can’t find it in himself to feel like a bad person.

He’d often wondered if the price he paid to go back in time was worth it - but here and now - Lex only miles away and not dead, his mother alive along with his father, he can’t bring himself to regret. Can’t bring himself to care at the lives he’ll take, if it means he gets to keep the ones he loves the most.

He knows it makes him a monster, knows he is a man without morals if they threaten anyone he loves - and he doesn’t care. Not as much as he should - not as much as he _used_ to.

“Clark,” Martha shakes him as he rests against the wall, “We should go. The lamp can wait. Rose needs some time to collect herself. That poor woman. God knows how I would feel if you ran away, Clark. Promise me you won’t?”

They walk out of the antique shop, and Clark squeezes his mom’s hand gently, “I won’t, Ma. Even if we had the biggest argument ever.”

Martha smiles at him as they hop in the truck, casting a sympathetic look towards the shop as they head home. Clark looks out the window, distracted with his thoughts, and asks,“What do you think we should make for dinner? I’m getting a bit tired of chicken.”

Martha looks at him for a moment, “Well how about burgers? We could invite Lex? Cheer you up a bit, distract you from the X-ray vision, maybe?”

Clark smiles, and looks at his mother with curiosity, “Not that burgers don’t sound great or anything, but why are you guys being nice to Lex all of a sudden? I thought you guys hated him because he’s a Luthor.”

Martha sighs, “We don’t hate him, Clark. I don’t hate him. Your dad, no matter how he acts and what he says, doesn’t hate him either. Maybe just a strong dislike. I am _cautious_ towards him. _Hopeful_ . He seems lonely, a bit _lost_ . If I’m being honest, Clark, he seems like he’s trying to be a good person. And that’s all we can ever do, Clark, _try_ to be good.”

Clark looks at his mother, “And dad? You guys just flipped around so quickly, I’m kind of confused but happy. I _know_ Lex is too.”

Martha is quiet as they drive home, mindlessly tapping on the steering wheel, “I won’t speak for your father, because really you should talk to him about Lex. But, we started to see that he was different because he brought you home that night of the dance. Yes, you saved his life, but beyond a thank you and a failed gift, we didn’t think he’d be in our lives so much. Then, you became his friend, and I didn’t know what to think, Clark. I’ve heard so many things about the Luthors over the years. Things that they change your perception of them even if I’d never met Lex before.”

Clark looks at the acres of field they pass and sadness lingers in his eyes, “He hates it you know? That everyone knows he’s a Luthor, that everyone thinks he’s a Luthor through and through. They don’t get to know _Lex_ himself - and it makes me so sad and angry. He’s been alone for so long and I can’t believe he thought it was okay to be like that. That he was _okay_ with that and it didn’t matter to him to have a friend.”

Martha pats Clark on the shoulder, before putting her hand back on the steering wheel,“We’ll get better, Clark. All of us. We’re starting to look past the Luthor part, and we’re seeing _Lex_. Lex who cares about our son and worries for him and is his friend. And well, once again, not speaking for your father, but I like him. He’s good to you, Clark. I’m happy you have a friend you can share your troubles to, that won’t dig too deeply like Chloe or make light of it like Pete.”

Clark laughs nervously, hiding his face from his mother, remembering Lex’s obsessive need to know everything about him, “Yeah, mom. He’s a _great_ friend. So, burgers and Lex?”

“Burgers and Lex. Just as soon as I tell your father. Hopefully he’s up to having a _peaceful_ dinner.” Martha answers dryly.

Clark nods and rests his head on the window, smiling the rest of the drive home.

 

* * *

 

Lex Luthor slowly circles his old Porsche and the program loops endlessly in the background. He runs a hand over his head and his eyes jump to several pictures of Clark.  

Some are taken with his phone, Clark smiling brightly into the camera or making silly faces, and others without a clue that anyone is watching him as Clark watches something in the distance, laughs with friends, or talks with his family.

Lex runs his fingers over the shattered windshield and the torn hood and debates putting bugs into the Kent household. Trust and Suspicion war inside Lex, because he knows that Clark is hiding something. Some big secret that drives him crazy, something that he refuses to tell Lex.

Only in his head will Lex admit that it hurts when Clark lies to his face, blue eyes glinting in the sun, unwilling to let Lex even gleam the truth. Yet, as the war wages inside him he also knows that the Kents’ are starting to trust him. Starting to like him more and more - and unwittingly he craves their approval, because he looks at Clark and how _good_ he is and wonders if he can’t be like that too. If he puts bugs in their house and learns their _secrets,_ if they somehow found out - he wouldn’t be able to imagine how betrayed they would be. _How betrayed Clark would be._

It is the only thing that stills his curiosity, his need to know more and more about Clark until he has learned anything and everything. But something in him, small yet vicious, knows that even if he learned everything about Clark it wouldn’t be enough. It would take death to make him let go of the brunette, that has against all odds, wormed his way into his heart and life. Something in him wants to possess Clark Kent until Clark turns away from the world and only sees _him_.

Lex shakes his head, tries to rip the thoughts from his head, because Clark is far too _young_ and a prison sentence would do him no good. It doesn’t stop the thoughts but it reasons with them slightly.

_Time._

Time is the only answer to his problems, the years until Clark is old enough, the years he’s waited to break free of his father, he can wait years - he’s a patient man - but the voice inside him whispers, _you won’t wait forever_ , it taunts him but he says nothing in return because the voice is right and he yearns for Clark in a way he never thought he could.

He circles again, remembers the car crash, and wonders - how impossible it was for Clark to live when he should have died. When they both should have died - yet they breathe and Lex always thought it felt a lot like destiny that they be in each others lives.

A ring breaks the silence and Lex’s turbulent thoughts, he brings the phone to his ear, “This is Lex Luthor.”

The speaker crackles slightly, “Lex! I was wondering, well, Ma was also wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner?”

Lex smiles and rests against the crashed car, “I would love to come, Clark, but tell me, is your father okay with that? I don’t exactly want to push my luck with him, considering after our non verbal truce this morning.”

“Of course. He was actually okay with it...surprisingly, now that I think about it-” Clark continues to ramble on in Lex’s ear, and Lex tingles with endearment. He imagines Clark’s eyes bright with excitement, resting on his bed talking with Lex, or in the barn with the smell of hay in the air. At times Lex himself can’t believe that someone would be happy to have him over for dinner; but like a whirlwind, Clark can’t seem to stop bringing change into Lex’s life.

He listens to Clark’s voice, getting lost in the rich cadence. Then startling when Clark calls his name, “Lex? Are you okay, you’ve been a bit silent? It’s alright  if you don’t have time for dinner with us, Lex.”

His eyes flutter open, “I’m fine, Clark. I’m delighted to have a reason to not work the night away. What time is dinner going to start? And would your parents mind if I bought something over?”

Clark’s laugh rings in his ear, and he faintly hears Martha, “At 7, on the dot. You don’t have to bring a thing, Lex. Just yourself and an appetite, if you please.”

He smiles faintly, “I hear you loud and clear, Martha. Thank you for the invitation, I’m sure dinner will be lovely.”

“Hope you’re happy with burgers, Lex,” Clark chirps in his ear, “I’m happy with burgers. Ma makes the best burgers in Smallville _ever._ Also, there’s gonna be pie - and maybe ice cream. I dunno, it depends, are you a fan of strawberry pie?”

Lex hums, “Well if it comes with ice cream, why not? I’ll be seeing you soon then, Clark.”

“Bye Lex, don’t die from overwork or else Ma will bring you back from the brink of death so you can eat her burgers.”

His body fills with affection, “I’ll try not to, Clark. But I can’t make any promises, I’m the maniac in the Porsche, remember?”

When he hangs up, laughter in his gut, the warmth inside of him does not go away and Lex looks forward to having dinner with the Kents'. Maybe he’ll scrap the bugging plan, _maybe_.

 

* * *

 

“Pete, you throw that rubber spider again, and I’m going for my staple gun.”

Lana knocks on the door nervously, “Mind if I come in?”

Chloe turns around surprised, but covers it with a smile, “The girl that writes for the Pom-pom parade is out with mono this week. No surprise there.”

Lana steps closer to where Chloe sits, and fiddles with her necklace, “Well, then, what about this week’s editorial?”

Chloe sighs and slouches on her chair, “My semiannual ‘Where Are Our Priorities’ rant. Hopefully this time Principal Kwan will listen and make some changes.”

Lana smiles, “For what it’s worth, I really like what you’ve done with the paper this year. Not a lot of people can take control and make the Torch into something entertaining.”

Chloe grins, small and pleased, “Well, thank you for being in the majority of one person then. Sorry about all the pom-pom jokes, once a wise-ass always a wise-ass.”

Lana giggling, shakes her head, “I admire yo- it. You know who you are and it doesn’t bother you what others think of you.”

Chloe leans on her palms, elbows on the table, green eyes looking up at Lana, “I wouldn’t say it _doesn’t_ bother me, but truth is, I’ve learned to only listen for the people I care about. If they don’t care they don’t matter and vice versa, you know? Anyways, what can I help you with Lana, you didn’t come down here just to compliment me, did you?”

Lana shifts her feet, “Uhm, no I didn’t come just to compliment you. The Torch prints the graduation speech every year, right?”

Standing to her feet Chloe stretches, “Unfortunately, yes. I transcribed last years snore fest, and trust me it was not fun. Anyways, what year?”

“1977, if you could.” Lana trails behind as Chloe groans, “That’s P.C.”

Lana winces, “P.C? I take it that’s bad? Is there nothing you can do?”

“P.C. is pre-computer, when fossils ruled the earth. Anything we have from before is going to be a hard copy. Thank god the file cabinets are organized.” Chloe opens the file cabinets and scans through the years, “Uh, let’s see. Here! 1977, Saturday Night Fever was the prom theme... yikes that does sound like on hell of a fever dream. Styx, something something century, and... wow. Someone got in the administration's face! I didn’t think anyone in Smallville had it in them.”

Lana, curious, huddles close to Chloe, reading over her shoulder, “Due to the controversial nature of this year’s graduation address, the editors have elected not to run the text in this issue of the Torch.”

Chloe snorts, and turns to Lana, “Boring! Ironically, it’s probably the only one worth reading. I could still try to track something down for you. Do you know who gave the speech?”

Lana smiles, hope flickering in her eyes, “Yeah. My mother. Laura Lang.”

Chloe laughs, jumping around in happiness, “Wow. Unexpected! Mama Lang had one hell of an awesome goodbye speech.”

She then turns around and asks, folder in hand, “How are you hanging up, Lana?”

Lana sighs, leaning on a desk, “I don’t really know. Everything is kind of turned on its head right now. My whole life-” Lana bites her lip in frustration, “My mom was this paragon I could never reach - and then I find out it’s a lie! That it was a lie my Aunt Nell made up!” Lana throws her hands up in frustration, anger seeping into her voice, “And Whitney! Whitney I don’t even know what to do about. He’s jealous of Clark for some reason. I’ve barely talked to Clark and he’s taking it way out of proportion. We’re just friends! Everything is crashing together into one big wreck and I’m right in the middle.”

Chloe pats Lana’s shoulder sympathetically, “Well, if you want to commiserate in misery together, I don’t see why not. My life isn’t the pile up yours is currently, but I feel like it might start to be. Clark is pulling away - well not really... I don’t think... but that’s what it feels like. He still hangs out with us, and we help each other with homework, but he’s emotionally distant and, uhm, I don’t know why.” 

Chloe leans next to Lana, blinking the tears away, “The other day, Pete and I saw him hanging out with Lex Luthor at the Beanery and I haven’t seen him that _there_ in a while. You should’ve seen Pete’s face, he was so _mad_ . He turned right around and just bolted home. But Clark, he was just so _happy_. And it made me feel horrible because I don’t know what’s going on with him but shouldn’t I be happy that he is?”

Chloe looks at the floor and in a small voice says, “Is it bad for me to be jealous? Angry, that Lex Luthor can make forget he even has friends outside of him? He’s been with Lex a lot and it makes us, well me, feel like I’m doing something wrong. And I don’t know what to change. Clark is still _Clark_ but Lex is one of the only people who can really make him _smile_ and I’m so jealous, so mad, and it makes me a terrible person doesn’t it?”

Lana hesitantly hugs Chloe, “No it doesn’t. You’re not a terrible person if you feel jealous or angry, Chloe. I don’t really know what to say to you though - I don’t know if I can help. Clark is a good person, I know that but...Lex Luthor isn’t. Or at least he’s trying not to be a horrible person, I can’t tell. Be careful, Chloe, don’t let him...influence Clark too much.”

Chloe sniffles, and quickly wipes away the small tears that escaped, “Thanks for the advice. I’ll see if Pete and I can’t pull Clark away from his self imposed Luthor duty. Would it be too personal to ask why you’re so wary towards him? You know, besides the same old Smallville Luthor hate?”

Lana grins weakly, eyes dimming considerably, “Well, it’s nothing that deep compared to what I already shared, but he came to me the day after homecoming. Told me to tell Whitney and his posse to stay away from Clark...because they hung him up to be this years’ Scarecrow. I don’t think I’d ever been so scared, he _warned_ us. He told me that accidents _happen_ when you hang out with the wrong crowd and there’s just so many doubts going through my head.”

Chloe frowns, and rests her head on Lana’s shoulder, “Wow, I wasn’t expecting that. I always wondered why Pete had an anti-Luthor crusade and now I know. Not that I’m to broken up about Whitney...sorry..but he did hang Clark up as a Scarecrow. Also, wow, how horrible, Clark _never_ told anyone that they did that? Does he have so little faith that I wouldn’t have at least printed something out with the Torch?!”

Lana groans, “Boys and their troubles. Give me a five page essay any day.”

Chloe laughs, cheeks still streaked with tear tracks, “Well, if we ever get tired there’s always eloping. Thanks for listening, Lana, you didn’t have to, but you did.”

Grinning ear to ear, Lana gives Chloe another hug and heads towards the door, “Well I took the road less traveled by, then happened by a friend, and it has made all the difference. Thanks for the help, Chloe, I’ll be seeing you?”

Chloe shoots Lana with her finger guns as the other waves goodbye,“Definitely, if only to complain about how testosterone filled our lives are - I have a feeling we’ll both need some estrogen in the future.” 

Lana Lang leaves Chloe in the Torch’s editorial room, her laughter echoing down the halls of Smallville High, both girls happier for having discovered another friend.

 

* * *

 

Clark precariously balanced three pies with gloved hands, scurrying past his mother to put them on the windowsill; faintly admiring the setting sun without ash clouds in sight.   
  
Shouting out of the window he asks,“Are you sure that’s enough pie, Ma?”

Martha flips several burgers and puts cheese on half, and yells back,“It’ll have to be. Don’t think I won’t notice any snacking, Clark. You keep your mitts off those pies until after dinner.”

Jonathan laughs, hay sticking to his clothes and heads towards the stairs, “I have a feeling we might be short a pie and a half by dinner time. Right, Clark?”

Clark pouts through the window, and starts making lemonade, “I’m not that bad! Besides, Lex is coming for dinner...so I won’t eat the pie or he won’t get to take any home. You should’ve seen him this morning, Ma! He didn’t let me eat one of his muffins, I’ve never felt so betrayed.”

Martha shakes her head in amusement, but her tone is stern,“Don’t be a glutton, Clark. You may be growing but that doesn’t excuse you taking others food, you hear?”

Clark smiles brightly at his mother when she scolds him, amused as she is, because she is alive to scold him - and it’s a great feeling. “I’m listening, Ma. I won’t take Lex’s food, unless he offers.”

Martha gives him a stern nod, eyes sparkling with warmth and turns to smile as Lex’s Porsche comes down the road towards their house.

Lex buttons up his jacket as he steps out of his Porsche and goes to greet Martha, “Good Evening, Martha. Thank you for inviting me to dinner.”

Martha smiles up at Lex, pulls him in for a hug, then hands him a platter, “No need to be so formal, Lex. We’re all friends here. Now, can you bring the burgers in? I’ve got to finish cleaning the grill.”

Lex smiles at her, inwardly salivating at the smell of her burgers, “No problem, Martha. Is Clark helping out?”

Martha turns the grill off, eyes the kitchen and yells, “He better be,” Then in a whisper, “ Let’s hope Clark managed not to eat half the pie.”

Lex snickers as he heads inside, carrying the platter with one hand and opening the door with the other. He almost breaks into laughter watching Clark throw mournful looks at the pies on the windowsill as he stirs the lemonade slowly.

He gently places the burgers on the dining table filled with platters of fries, salad, and some grilled vegetables. Lex walks closer to Clark, looking at him with amusement,“I’m sensing that you and the pie are having a moment, I’m not entirely sure I should interrupt.”

Clark turns around quickly and a smile brightens up his mournful face, “Lex! You made it!”

Pulling Lex in for a hug, Clark tries to hide his wince as his X-Ray vision comes back and he sees Lex’s bones.

Lex stiffens slightly at Clark’s wince before relaxing into the hug he knows he can’t escape. He curiously rubs Clark’s temples, noting how relaxed Clark is in his arms,“Still having those headaches? Are you sure you don’t want to get a check up?”

Jonathan looks at Lex and Clark huddled together and tries not to frown,“We think it might be a growth spurt. Martha stopped by the general doctor earlier when they were in town and the doctor said it’s probably caused by hormones.”

Lex and Clark startle at Jonathan’s sudden interruption, Lex slips out of Clark’s grasp and offers his hand to shake, “Mr.Kent, it’s nice to see you again. I hope I’m not interrupting anything by coming by?”

Jonathan gives Lex an awkward smile, and shakes his hand, “Not at all, Lex. Clark was really ecstatic to have you around for dinner.”

Clark hovers around the two of them, mildly weirded out by how amicable they were towards each other - and their skeletons, but mostly the being _nice_ to each other.

Martha comes bustling in the door, breaking the strange tension between Lex and Jonathan, unsure of how to start conversation with each other beyond greetings. Taking off her apron, and hanging it on the kitchen hanger, she claps her hands, and cheerfully says, “Well, let’s get dinner started. I know Clark and I are certainly starving.”

Lex sits posture perfect, as Martha and Jonathan dole out the food, two burgers (four for Clark), cheese included, a side of fries and salad each, and a large glass of lemonade.

They idly chat back and forth, enjoying dinner and Clark basks in the happiness of having his family around him - everyone digs in with relish, and Clark feels that they’ve all slowly gotten closer to each other then they ever had in his last life.

 

* * *

 

Dinner finishes quickly around a starved Clark, and slices of strawberry pie topped with ice cream are handed out. The strawberries tart enough to balance with the subtle sweetness of the handmade vanilla ice cream, Lex all but groans in displeasure as his pie slowly disappears. He can see why Clark was rather mournful that he didn’t get to have half the pies for himself.

Clark and Lex shuffle around helping Martha clean up the dishes on the table, as Jonathan grabs Tupperware, cuts half a pie into several slices and gently places them into the container before closing it. Martha shoots him a look motioning towards Lex, as he fiddles with the Tupperware, trying not to nervously turn it upside down. He places it on the counter and steels himself for a rather uncomfortable talk with Lex Luthor.

He clears his throat as Clark and Lex mess around with kitchen towels and something in him softens at the unguarded expression that Lex Luthor has around his son. The both stop playing around, looking at him with light hearted smiles, and Jonathan _knows_ somehow, that Lex Luthor will be greater than his father ever was.

“Clark, go help your mother clean the dishes, would you, son? If I could talk with you outside, Lex?”

The smile was quick to slip off of Lex’s face and in its place a mask of indifference - but Clark hesitated seeing the nervousness in Lex’s face. Jonathan motioned for Clark to help his mother despite the pleading eyes thrown his way and slowly he left them alone.

Lex and Jonathan slowly walked towards the porch and Jonathan shut the door behind them. Lex nervous, but unwilling to acknowledge it, asked, “Is there something wrong, Mr.Kent?”

Jonathan paced the length of the porch, opening and closing his mouth for several minutes - and Lex’s nervousness was ramped up to the tens.

“Mr.Kent?” Lex hated how unsure his voice sounded, and desperately wished he didn’t like the Kents' so much, not if they could affect him so much without even speaking.

Perturbed Jonathan Kent sighed, “I-I don’t really know how to start, so I’m just going to say what I have to say, alright?”

Lex nods slowly, worried and anxious in turn.

Jonathan stops pacing and faces Lex, the chill wind ruffling his hair, “At first, I didn’t like you. I didn’t want to like you, Lex. Yes, it’s because you’re a Luthor and as long as I’ve known your father I knew Luthor’s were trouble. Lionel is a hard man to like and the way he acted, I was convinced you’d be the same.”

Jonathan wrings his hands, “I never wanted to hate you or blame you but I did. I blamed you for all the wrong your father did and let that blind me to the fact that you’re innocent in this. I blamed you, because it was easier than blaming myself and the hand I had in bringing the Luthors to Smallville.”

Lex stands still, surprised, and strangely pleased the direction the conversation heading in but confused, “You brang the Luthors to Smallville? Mr.Kent, I don’t mean to assume but I _doubt_ you had a hand in anything to do with the Luthors.”

“This is something I didn’t want anyone to know. I considered it a great shame of mine, the deal I made with your father, but...I can’t bring myself to regret it. On the day of the meteor shower, we found Clark. He was out in the field wandering around when meteors were crashing down - we don’t know what happened to his parents, we’ve never been able to find out. For all we know, they died the day of the meteor shower.”

Jonathan beckons Lex to sit and he does, curious about the story Jonathan will tell him.

“We found Clark that day. Then driving down the road, Clark in Martha’s arms, meteors falling out of the sky, we almost ran over a man. He’d come running out of the corn field, when we pulled over, he could barely speak and the only thing that managed to come out of his mouth was something about his son. He pointed towards the corn field and I ran. That’s when I saw you, laying down in a corn field, unconscious, and only a tuft of hair on your head. Lionel could barely speak, when I lifted you into my arms and ran back to the truck. We drove the both of you to the hospital that day, and your father was...grateful.”

Lex sat in his chair, trying not to reel from shock, “My father never told me. He doesn’t like to speak of that day. It still doesn’t explain why you dislike the Luthors so much, Mr.Kent.”

Looking at the stars, Jonathan willed himself to continue, “I’m getting to it. Your father was grateful and told us that if we needed anything he would be glad to help. And well, I didn’t think much of it at the time until I came home to Martha - and to Clark.”

“I walked through the front door and I realized we couldn’t keep him. He didn’t have any paperwork, we didn’t know who his parents were or if they were even still alive. We were going to leave him with social services but Martha and I got so attached. We didn’t have any kids of our own, even after trying for so long but we wanted Clark.”

Jonathan voice shakes but whether it is with anger, or sadness, or something else entirely, Lex can’t tell,“So, I called your father. I asked him to certify Clark’s adoption for us. I was so happy and so thankful that Martha and I finally had a family of our own. Lionel asked if I could do something for him, said the Ross Brothers were having second thoughts about selling Lionel their factory. He wanted me to put in a good word - to soothe their tensions. I hesitated and said it wasn’t any of my business and Lionel did what he does best. He told me to be careful with Clark’s adoption certificate, that the Department of Family Welfare might find it to be a _sham_.”

Lex grips the chair tightly, shocked and worried, but relieved that it wasn’t something _he did_ that made Jonathan Kent hate him.

Jonathan continues to shed light on the past, and Lex listens with a close ear, “He asked for a _small favor in return._ I gave in. I loved Clark so much and I didn’t want him to be swallowed by a system where I knew I’d never see him again. I’ve never been able to stop blaming myself or him. I let him into our community, into Smallville, and I have to live with that every day of my life.”

“When I saw you there that day under that bridge all that anger came back, and I am so sorry, Lex. I am sorry that I have continuously blamed you and hated you for being a Luthor when it was never your fault. I am sorry I couldn’t see past my own self guilt and hatred and lectured you with sanctimonious platitudes, like I had a soap box to stand on. I am sorry if I made you feel that you were lesser because of your name despite you having no choice in the family you were born to. I am sorry, and I hope you can forgive me for all the wrong I’ve done to you.”

Jonathan is looking straight into his eyes, a heart of gold open for Lex to forgive or condemn - and Lex caves.

Lex locks eyes with him, shocked and maybe a little terrified that Jonathan was willing to put him feelings out in the open and says, “I accept your apologies Mr.Kent. I can’t say that is what I was expecting, but I suppose that is a good thing. I know I can’t apologize for all the wrong my father has done to your family, _all that he tried to do_ , because you wouldn’t accept it from anyone other than him. All I can say is thank you, for talking with me, for explaining to me why you disliked the Luthor name, and for trusting me with this information.”

Jonathan nods, visibly less tense now that Lex had spoken, and gives him a nervous smile, “Thank you. I’ll work on the not blaming the Luthors - at least you - for things that are out of their control, especially when it’s something I have to personally work on getting over.”

Lex smiles back, heart racing in his chest as his thoughts threaten to overwhelm him with questions he cannot ask, not _now_ , and offers a hand, “Would you be adverse to being friends, Mr.Kent? A way for us to start over without all the Kent vs. Luthor mentality? My name is Alexander Luthor, but I prefer Lex. I’ve just moved to Smallville this year and I live in that big, drafty mansion in the woods.”

Jonathan surprises Lex with a laugh, and shakes his hand, “It’s nice to meet you, Lex. My name is Jonathan Kent, call me Jonathan. I’ve lived in Smallville my whole life and this farm has been in my family for generations. I have a loving wife, Martha, and a son named Clark, with a black hole for a stomach, I believe you know him?”

Lex tries not to laugh, but it escapes him anyway, “I do believe I know the black hole you speak of. He’s the best friend I have here and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

They smile at each other and get lost in chatter, the winds of change swiftly blowing in a different direction then before. Martha and Clark sit in the kitchen, dishes long since washed, and the door cracked open. There they sat, listening to Lex and Jonathan talk since the very beginning, smiling so wide they hurt their cheeks - and they were happy.

 


	4. Hourglass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra grips his hand tightly, “You...you are different than I thought you’d be. Different from the visions I had of you. Older. Darker. Determined."
> 
> Clark looks at her sorrowful yet triumphant, and whispers, "I had turn back time if I wanted to fix the world, Cassandra."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Shows up with a 10k chapter almost 2 weeks late with no starbucks only fucks to give* TA-DA! Are you guys proud of me?? I actually hit my self imposed 10k chapter goal, so I'm feeling rather pumped! We have a LOT of stuff going down this chapter and some of it, rather game changing! 
> 
> I won't lie, the reason it took so long to churn this one out was because I rediscovered The Sims and procrastinated 3 days away...yeah..no further comment. And then after that I was churning out 1k at least, a day and that is sooo brain tiring.
> 
> But in order to sooth your hungry souls, there's Clex, and Chlana AND Ma & Pa Kent!! You can't tell but I'm seriously happy, I love all of them so much.
> 
> Anyways, onto the REAL chapter notes, this Cassandra is rather different than Canon!Cassandra because she can see the past (to some extent) and also check up in more detail on the future! Also you have to admit that Cassandra probs adored Clark Kent in Canon. She loves him a lot in my AU too, she's alright with some murder, you know considering she lives in the same retirement center as one! Don't people have moral quandaries over that?? I know I would.
> 
> Freaks of the Week are just soooo boring guys, give me an over arching plot device any day but at least they're good for setting up the story!!
> 
> Thanks for the consistent Kudos and Reviews, everyone, y'all don't know how happy it makes this girl!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy and comment!!

“Let us live - we must die.” - Marcus Aurelius Seneca

 

* * *

 

Clark and Pete leisurely walk the halls of the Smallville Retirement Center, “We have to complete thirty hours of community service to graduate, Pete. It’s better to get it done now and have more free time when we’re older.”

Pete gives him a flat look, “We could’ve been lifeguards for the girls swim class at the Y. Instead we have to hang out with the denture crowd for the weekend, how is this any better than what we could’ve been doing?”

Clark rolls his eyes, “Well more decent conversation for one. You didn’t have to come along you know, I’m sure the Y would’ve loved to have you as a lifeguard.”

Pete frowns, “It’s not fun if we both don’t do it, dude. I just can’t believe-” Pete pauses and stares off into the distance and then turns to look at him smugly, “Oh I get it. It’s because Lana is here. I see you Clark _and_ what you’re trying to pull.”

Sighing, Clark shakes his head, “No _._ _Pete_. It’s not because of Lana. I just feel like these people would really appreciate our help and conversations. They could even give you dating advice! What’s the harm in helping people who would actually like the help, you know?”

Pete shrugged, but Clark saw how bothered he was, “I guess. Do you even know where we’re going?”

Clark puts his hands on Pete’s shoulders and turns him in the direction of the help desk, “ _I’m_ helping out a woman named Cassandra Carver, _you_ need to go find the reception desk to tell you where to go and who to help. Did you even read your packet?”

Pete huffs, and grudgingly walks away, “Maybe. Thirty hours of community service here I go. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

Clark snorts, and yells down the hall, “I didn’t talk you into anything! You have free will remember!”  
  
Pete gives him a small wave, clearly not at all happy with having to do banal chores and disappears down the hallway.

He stands in the doorway and smiles at Cassandra reading a book, a soft fondness in his gaze, “Hello, Ms. Carver, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Clark Kent, and I’ll be with helping you with some reading today.”

Cassandra turns her head in his direction, “Don’t just stand there, come in. You can’t read to me from the doorway, can you?”

Clark tries and fails not to smile at her blunt way of speaking, and moves closer to sit across from her. He offers his hand to shake and she gently takes and squeezes it, eyes widening in surprise.

She grips his hand tightly, “You...you are different than I thought you’d be. Different from the visions I had of you. Older. Darker. _Determined._ I would normally warn someone to be weary of their darkness, but you have embraced yours like an old friend - and I cannot fault you for it. You will need it in the years to come, if you’re going to sincerely deal with your _Lex_ and all the problems that come with Smallville.”

Clark looks at her sorrowful yet triumphant, and whispers, “I had turn back time if I wanted to fix the world, Cassandra. That world was _wrong_ , but it seemed only I knew it. Lex, this time, Lex won’t be _alone_. I won’t listen to those who try to lead me astray, Cassandra.” He frowns, shakes his head and asks, “ Would you be willing to see my future, despite all you’ve learned about me?”

Her hand trembled faintly as she kept it clasped in his, “I saw, that once we were great friends you and I. I saw what I told you in the past and how you saved the lives you could. You’re still the same man, underneath all the guilt, death, and sorrow, Clark. Never doubt your capacity for _good_ even with all the bad you’ve done to come back.”  
  
Cassandra clears her throat, and looks curious, “I’ll show you what I can, but talk with me after you’ve taken care of Harry, won’t you?”

Clark agrees and exhales sharply as Cassandra’s vision plays in his mind.  
  
Clark watches as Lex and Helen get married _again_ , Lex looking at her with love in his eyes and he _hurts_.

He watches Helen return to Smallville, playing the part of a grieving widow, the harsh glint of victory masked by tears. 

He forgot Helen was _untouchable._

If he took care of Helen, others would flock to Smallville to take her place and not as _kind_ as Helen. Clark would rather the devil he knew than one he didn’t.

Pain suffocates his heart, the love of his life once again marries another, with him as the best man. Clark can do nothing to stop Lex’s suffering a second time, nothing to stop the betrayal he knows is coming. He shatters with the knowledge of his new future - knowing he cannot stop all of Lex’s hurts, because Lex will not _listen,_ not until it is too late to make a difference.

Clark shudders and chokes on his tears as Cassandra gently consoles him, rubbing circles on his back.

Cassandra pats his head slowly, her voice a trembling whisper, “I will show you more, later, Clark. We will have plenty of time to talk this time. I know this _man_ , this _Lex_ , is important to you but what you’ve seen is not all of your future, dear, not even a fraction of it.”

Clark nods, grateful, and wipes his tears away, “Thank you, Cassandra, but why only just a fraction of it?”

She sinks into her chair, “To see the future is tiresome, Clark, and it takes much out of me. Less, if I see over the course of several years. Details become blurred and only things of great importance matter.  More, if I need specifics. If I want to know what happens a certain day of their life - or how just one thing will turn out. But for now you’ll have to excuse me, Clark, I feel like having an early rest today.”

Clark sighs in relief and smiles at her, “I’m glad you’re alive again, Cassandra. Thank you for showing me the future. I may not be able to change it, but I can still try to get some odds in his favor before he goes through the plane crash.”

Cassandra smiles at him tiredly then heads to her bed, and Clark walks out towards the reception desk, quick to sign out and deal with a murderous Harry Volk.

He almost melts with relief realizing that Harry will be easy to deal with, if he induces a small heart attack.

 

* * *

 

Swinging the door to The Beanery open Chloe platicates Lana, “It's not your fault, Lana. People have free will, you know?”

Lana miserably wrings her hands, as they head to sit down,“Do you know anyone else who's lost an entire old person in a wheelchair?”

Jumping into the chair, Chloe pauses before shaking her head, “No...that's pretty impressive, even by Smallville standards. But, It’s not your fault! Elderly people can decide things for themselves and there’s nothing you can do to change that! If Harry decided to go on jaunt then that’s on him.”

Lana slumped down the chair as Chloe raised a hand to order, “Are you going to want anything, Lana?”

Lana laid her face against the table,“If Harry could appear within the next ten minutes that would be fantastic!”

Chloe sighed, looking worriedly at Lana, then up at Zoe, “Well, does the coffee come with a side of miracle?”

Zoe Garfield groaned impatiently tapping her pen against the notepad, “ _No._ I’m afraid the miracle doctor is on vacation until you guys leave. Now, what can I get you?”

“ _Snarky_. I like it!” Zoe rolls her eyes, but a smile gives her away, “I’ll have an Almond Mocha with extra whip, and some coffee cookies, please, Zoe? Also, what about you, Lana?”

Looking up at Zoe, Lana reluctantly sits up, “A caramel latte, and a vanilla muffin if you can, please.”

She rests on her palms, elbows on the table, eyebrows scrunched in worry, “I just don’t understand how he could disappear! I’m so worried, what if something happens to him and no one notices?”

Chloe pats Lana on the shoulder, a mischievous smile on her face, “Maybe a koi turned into a piranha and ate him? It could be some wall of weird stuff!”

Lana barely smiles at her joke, and Chloe frowns, “I’m just thinking outside of the box, Lana. There’s not a lot of places you can run off to in Smallville. I’m sure he’ll turn up, it’s just a matter of time.”

“I like your theory, but it sounds like I should stay away from the lakes around here.” A young man cuts into their conversation. Blonde. Blue eyed. A smile that could kill. Chloe sits in her chair, on edge, and her gut tells her this man is _off_.

Eyes narrowing Chloe grumbles, “You might want to work on your eavesdropping skills, dude. Or you know, not listen in at all to people’s personal conversations.”

Harry chuckles to himself at Chloe's comment, “Sorry, I’ll be sure to try harder next time. I’m new in town, and I heard this is where young people congregate.”  
  
Lana raises her eyebrows at his curious choice of words as her and Chloe trade a look.

Leaning on her palm Chloe stares at Harry, and sarcastically replies, “Yeah, we congregate here often.” She mouths to Lana, _honestly, how old is this guy?_

The man offers a small smile, but ignores her sarcastic reply as Zoe comes by with his coffee. “Thanks honey, you’re a doll.”

Chloe grumbles under her breath and turns towards Lana, “Just ignore him, Lana. Guys think they’re can get our numbers if they act older. When are they going to realize it never works?”

Lana hides a smile with her hands, as Chloe tries to stifle a giggle. Harry continues to drink his coffee before standing up to leave, he leaves three dollar bills on the table and hurries away.

Zoe drops by with their order, and places it on their table, “Weird right? I just got this odd vibe off of him. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a drifter.”

Lana thanks Zoe, after taking a sip of coffee murmuring appreciatively, “That’s one heck of a drifter. I’ve never met anyone our age that talked like _that_.”

Zoe holds the tray close to her chest, and heads towards the counter,“The get weirder every year. Yell if you need anything, I’ll be in the back.”

Chloe and Lana sit in contemplative silence, slowly enjoying their coffee, the Beanery empty except for them, a rarity for all the bustle it usually receives. Lana traces a circle on the table, and breaks the silence, “So, have any luck with Clark?”

Chloe hands her head, “Nope. I asked if he wanted to hang out with us today, but he said he was _busy_ ,” Chloe tsks, “Just busy! Probably too busy hanging out with Lex Luthor. It wouldn’t hurt him to give me an actual excuse like ‘Oh, I’m sorry Chloe, I can’t hang out, because I have a new best friend and it’s not _you_ _or Pete_ , it’s Lex Luthor!’ Or he could just give me a fake one, ‘I can’t! I have to help my dad with some chores around the farm’ but he’s actually hanging out with Lex Luthor!.’”

Lana holds Chloe’s hand tenderly, “You’ll get through to him, Chloe. Lex Luthor has only been in Smallville for a little bit and you guys have been friends for _years_. He’ll wake up and smell the roses sooner or later, right? Lex Luthor isn’t this magic guy with a magnetic personality, he’s human, like the rest of us. Clark’s probably just excited to have someone new in town!”

Chloe takes a long drink of her coffee, “ _Right_ .  Well, at least Mr.Kent doesn’t like the Luthors, it’s no secret around Smallville how much he _hates_ them. Lets hope Clark will stop looking at Luthor with stars in his eyes. Anyways, moving on. How’s the Whitney situation going?”

“Not going at all, “ Lana gripes, “It’s like we’re at a stand still, waiting for the tumbleweed to blow across the road. There’s so much I want to do, so much I want to experience and change about myself,” sipping her latte Lana takes a breath, “ It just seems like all Whitney is worried about is Football and if he has the grades to play. We’re stuck in a rut and I think we need some time off, to figure out where I want to go.”

Biting her muffin, Lana continues talking, “I barely know what to do with myself and I can’t figure myself out with this worry _hanging_ over my head wondering if I’m the one doing something wrong in our relationship.” Lana blows a strand of hair from her face, sullen, “Well, it’s not like anyone said love was going to be easy."

Chloe intertwined her fingers with Lanas’, “Well, when in doubt listen to advice from strangers. Bob Marley says in matters pertaining to loved ones, “‘Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you; you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for.’”

Lana forces down the last of her caramel latte, trying not to choke from surprise. She coughs harshly, and flabbergasted says, “Bob Marley, really Chloe?!”

Chloe laughs at Lana’s expression, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, “Don’t knock the man, all he does is make music and give unsolicited but worthwhile life advice. Bet, you really didn’t expect me to quote him, did you?”

Lana shakes her head smiling and Chloe taps her on the shoulder, a cheshire smile on her lips, “Have I distracted you enough with coffee and small talk, Ms.Lang?”

Lana gives her a fond smile, her voice filled with warmth, “Yes, you have Ms.Sullivan. Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Lex steps out of his Porsche, and heads towards a moody looking Clark, worry dogging his steps, “Are you okay, Clark? Did something happen to your parents?”  
  
Clark smiles at him but it fails to reach his eyes, “No. Nothing happened to them. They’re alright, Lex.”

Lex stands there curious and impatient for the truth, “Then what’s wrong, Clark?”

Clark avoids his gaze and instead looks at the floor, “I met this woman at the retirement center, and she can kind of see the future.”

Lex looks at him eyebrows raised and tone disbelieving, “Yeah? She tell you your future, then?”  
  
Clark carried the box on his hip and mulishly walked around Lex leaving the produce box near the front door for the staff, “I don’t want to talk about it, Lex.”

An incredulous smile places itself on Lex’s face, his voice teasing, “It can’t have been that bad. Did you forget to study for a test? Did someone die?”

Lex freezes as teary blue eyes suddenly stare at him, and his heart constricts painfully.

“No death or doom from tests. Instead I lost a good friend. My _best_ friend. They got married and I had to stand there and _watch_ while someone else married the love of my life. So no, no one died but even a broken heart can feel like death, Lex.”

Clark wipes the tears rolling down his cheeks, painfully smiling at Lex, as they walk to his office.

Lex breathes deeply, in and out, as Clark walks ahead of him - furious that Clark loved his best friend, a best friend that wasn’t _him_ and clenched his fists wishing he could lock himself in his office and _destroy_.

Instead he allays his emotions and hurries his pace after Clark, worried that the teen was extremely upset at whatever an attention seeking fraud told him.

Lex places a firm hand on Clark’s shoulder, and closes the office door, “Clark,-”  
  
Clark frowns, but doesn’t remove Lex’s hand, “I know. It sounds crazy. But when you talk with her it’s like she really _knows_ what’s going to happen.”

He squeezes Clark shoulder faintly, “She knows when she has a good audience is all, Clark. If you’re so worried about your best friend marrying someone else, then tell them of your love, show them you love them, that you’re willing to fight for them.” Lex’s mouth twitches with the need to scream, and every voice in his head turns into a furious roar, _He would have them taken care of for stealing Clark away._

Lex holds Clark close, makes sure his tone is caring, and continues giving him advice. Regardless of the anger bubbling in his gut, and the cacophony of outrage in his head, his voice never wavered, "Marcus Aurelius, a Roman emperor once said, ‘Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.’ Don’t worry about the future, Clark, we make our own destiny, regardless of what others think or say. This vision doesn’t define what your life will become.”

Clark nods pacified and Lex’s voice is strangled with relief as a genuine smile lights up Clark’s face.

Clark looks at him, eyes puffy from tears, and hugs him tightly, having found solace in his words,“Thanks for the advice, Lex. You’re the best friend I could ever ask for. But, I gotta go, more deliveries to make before I head back home.”

For one second their hearts beat together, wrapped in each others embrace, and then Clark pulls away, heading towards the door.

Lex’s fingers curl around empty air, already missing Clark like a stitch in his side, but his voice indifferently asks, “You never told me this woman’s name, Clark.”

Clark stops and looks back at him curiously, “I didn’t think you’d be interested, Lex.”

Lex smile curls up mockingly, “Maybe I’ll ask her for some stock tips. See what’s going on with some LuthorCorp competitors.”

Clark shakes his head visibly perplexed by Lex’s smile, but tells him anyway, “Cassandra Carver. See you around, Lex.”

Lex gives Clark a small wave, and says his goodbye at the door, “See you later, Clark.”

Turning slowly on the balls of his feet, Lex locks himself inside his office.

He stays standing still until a maids knock tells him Clark has left.

The maid leaves him to his silence.

He stays standing still until he grabs a vase and _throws_.

The vase shatters against the wood paneling, falling to pieces on his floor, irreparably broken.

Ming Dynasty.

Antique Porcelain.

Priceless.

It gives him no comfort.

It was _worthless_ compared to Clark’s love.  
   
Unadulterated fury courses through his body.

Someone took Clark from him.

Wound him around their finger.

Made Clark cry at the thought of their wedding.

Lex Luthor, circled his desk, then sat upon his chair like a throne, forcing himself to temper his anger.

He was _furious_ because Clark loved someone else.

He needed to know who to _blame_.

He needed to know everything.

 

* * *

 

Martha Kent pops a tray of muffins into the oven, then begins working on a new batch measuring the ingredients into a mixing bowl.  
  
She watches over the last bast of cooling muffins and sighs in contentment. The landline ringing breaks the peaceful silence of the Kent Household, and Martha wipes her hands on her apron and goes to pick up the phone.

“Martha Kent, speaking.”

“Martha, it’s Lex. Sorry to call you out of the blue-.”

“It’s so nice to hear from you, Lex. You haven’t been by since dinner last time, have you been busy with work?”

Lex lets out a low whine, “Everything is going as well as it can, Martha. Although I can’t say my father and Dominic are happy with the way I’ve turned things around at the plant.”  
  
Martha smiles into the receiver, “I’m glad, Lex. I know a lot of people who are dependent on the factory and to hear you’re making it better is fantastic. Did you call for any particular reason, Lex? Or did you just want to talk with little old me?”

Lex laughter rings in her ear, “As much as I love to talk with you Martha, I was actually calling to talk about Clark. Has he ever shown any sort of romantic interest in anyone? Or just had a general interest in them perhaps beyond friendship?”

Martha blinks and breathes in long and slow, “Can I ask why, Lex?”

Lex clears his throat, “He came by the Manor to drop the produce off and he seemed rather upset. I could barely get him to talk about it, but he says he encountered an older woman at the retirement center, who told him his future. Apparently, this woman said that Clark would be watching the love of his life marry someone else. He didn’t tell me anything else, but he was broken up about it. I’m concerned, and well, as Clark’s best friend, I’d like to reassure him that the future can be changed and to not believe in this fraud’s words, Martha.”

Martha smiles sadly, “Well, I do believe that would be a valid reason to be upset. Clark is a bit too young to be thinking of marriage though. The only one that Clark has looked at romantically is Lana Lang. It was like pulling teeth to get him to admit it to me. Albeit, he hasn’t talked about Lana in quite a while which was surprising.”

Martha murmurs to herself, wrapping the telephone cord around her finger, “Come to think of it, ever since ...you came into town...he hasn’t...”

The silence grows between them and Martha freezes in surprise, “Martha? Are you still there?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before coughing and exclaims louder, “Yes, I’m here, Lex. Sorry about my silence, I had to check on the muffins in the oven.”  

“It’s no problem, Martha. I am sorry about calling out of the blue, you must be busy as well. Are you sure there’s only Lana Lang?” His voice sounds hard, but Martha shakes off any alarm, trying to hang up as quick as polite.

Hurriedly, she rambles into the landline,“Yes, just Lana. If there’s anyone else, well, good luck getting him to talk about it! I’ve got to go finish up these muffins, Lex, but thank you for taking the time to call and ask after Clark. I’ll be sure to tell him you called.”

She ignores the faint maniacal laughter from the other side of the phone, as Lex’s voice is light and happy, “Oh you don’t have to do that, Martha, I’ll be sure to call him later to see how he’s doing. Thank you for your help.”

Martha smiles as Lex hangs up and then all but slides down the wall onto the floor, sitting with her head in between her knees. She sits for a good thirty minutes drowning in her thoughts, trying to piece everything together.

“Oh my _son_ . Clark,- Clark has a _crush_ on Lex Luthor. His best friend. His best friend that he saw marrying someone else in some woman’s supposed vision. My poor boy.”

Martha holds her head in her hands and resists the urge to throttle herself, “What kind of mother am I, that Clark didn’t feel comfortable talking to me about his sexuality?”

She gets up with wobbly feet, clutching the wall like a life line, takes the over baked muffins out of the oven, turning it off before racing off to the barn.

“Jonathan? Jonathan!” 

Jonathan turns hastily at Martha’s yelling, as he sets down a bale of hay on the barn floor.

He looks at her with concern, “Martha? What’s the matter? Did something happen?”  
  
“I- we need to talk, about Clark. About _us_ , as parents. Let’s-” Martha hesitates before she shakes her head and grabs his hand pulling him along, “Leave the hay for later. We have to talk inside, before Clark gets home. I have a feeling we’re all going to need to sit down for a family discussion once he does.”

Jonathan, confused, follows Martha back home and sits at the kitchen table while Martha paces the floor. “Martha, Honey, you’re worrying me, what’s this about?”

Martha paces relentlessly, her hands tousling her hair into a mess, “I’m glad that you’re friends with Lex now. Clark is glad too. I just don’t want to ruin that for you, for us, as a _family_.”

His narrowed eyes followed Martha, “Why? What happened, Martha? You know I’m just going to think the worst if you don’t tell me. Did they argue and suddenly decide they’re not friends?”

Martha throws her hands into the air, and sits across from him at the table, clearly frantic, “You have to promise me before I tell you Jonathan Kent. Promise me you won’t be mad. Won’t blame anyone for this. You hear me?”

Jonathan nods slowly, “I promise, Martha. No anger, denial, or blaming. Now, what has you so worried?”  
  
She holds his hands in hers with a steel grip, looking him straight in the eye, “I think our son has a crush on Lex.”

 Jonathan’s eyes widen in surprise and Martha feels him stiffen, as he tries to keep his voice calm, “And why would you think that, Martha?

She smiles wanly, “Lex called earlier. He was worried about Clark. A woman at the retirement center supposedly told him his future. She said that he would watch the love of his life marry someone else. I know you must think I’m some sort of crazy, Jonathan, but he didn’t come to me, or you, upset about not being able to _marry_ Lana.”

She rubs circles on his hands with her thumbs, “He went to _Lex_ . And if there’s one thing I know about my son, it’s that he runs to the people he cares about, the people he _loves,_ when he needs comfort. I’m so lost, Jonathan. I feel like I’m an awful mother. I feel like I’ve failed him. I should’ve _noticed_ that he stopped talking about Lana! That all he wanted to talk about was Lex. I should’ve done something, said something to make him see we would still love him no matter who _he_ loved.”

Jonathan squeezed her hand, eyes cast downward,“Not you. _We._ We’ve failed him. I suppose I have to take most of the blame for this one, Martha. If I didn’t hate Lex so much as first, maybe he would’ve felt comfortable talking to one of us about it. Maybe he would’ve felt safe enough to tell us that he didn’t just like women but men too.”

Jonathan chokes up as he speaks, tears slipping down his face, and Martha can see a mirror of her emotions in him. “I’m not going to lie to you, Martha,” he says, voice gruff with tears, “The old part of me is asking why it had to be a Luthor. But I know he’s a good man. I know that he’s trying to change the way he acts.” He sniffles, then asks, “You think that’s why he was so insistent that we get to know Lex?”

Jonathan wipes Martha’s tears, away, and Martha lets out a shaky laugh, her cheek cradled in Jonathan’s hand, “Our son is seventeen and he’s probably in love with Lex Luthor, I can pretty definitively say he wanted his parents to be nice to the object of his affections.”

Jonathan cracks a small smile, eyes still sad, “We’ll have to talk with him very, very seriously, Martha. Tell him- tell him it’s fine, _more than fine_ , if he likes men or women or both. But that he has to be _careful_. Does- does Lex know?”

Shaking her head, Martha replies, “No. He hasn’t pieced it together if his confusion over Clark being so upset was any indication. He was worried about him, as friends do.”

In a quieter voice she says, “I don’t want my baby to get _hurt_. I don’t want him to lose Lex as a friend, because I know Clark loves him and it would hurt him so much, Jonathan.”

Jonathan exhales deeply, “I know. If I could spare him that hurt, I would, Martha, but we can’t. We can’t control someone’s emotions and if they don’t like Clark, all we can do is be there for him when he falls.”

Still holding hands, they breathe in the silence, threading their fingers together, Martha hums, “I guess it’s about time we all had a nice family talk. I hope he doesn’t get too embarrassed.”

Jonathan smiles at her affectionately, “We’ll have to drive to Metropolis. Buy and read whatever parenting books for the situation we’re in. I know there’s a lot we told him he could never do because of his powers, but I won’t have him feel like a stranger in his own home because of who he loves. He’s our son and he _deserves_ our best.”

Martha strokes his face, “We’ll do better, Jonathan. So he knows he can come to us for anything, no matter what.”

They sat at the table, sun high in the sky, meandering through their daily chores, counting the time until Clark returned home.

 

* * *

 

“Cassandra Carver?”  
  
Cassandra does not turn to see who called her name and instead continues to read her newspaper, “Do those expensive shoes come with a name?”  
  
Lex looks at his shoes for a moment, incredulous, and smiles, setting the flower down next to her newspaper, “Lex Luthor, a pleasure.”  
  
Cassandra turns in the direction of his voice, eyebrow raised and mouth stern, “ Of Luthor Incorporated?”  
  
Lex settles down in his chair, across from Cassandra and unbuttons his suit jacket, “More or less.”

Cassandra hums, folding her newspaper in half,“And what does the savior of Smallville want with an old blind woman?”

Lex sits stiffly, hands steepled together, but voice bright and curious, “You’ve made a real impression on my friend Clark.

Cassandra sits across from him newspaper forgotten, and smiles faintly at Lex, “So, you came to see for yourself if anything he said was true?

Looking at Cassandra, Lex’s voice goes hard, “Clark is not stupid. If he says you _know_ things, that you’ve told him things, there’s something that made him think that.”  
  
Cassandra’s clouded eyes peer over his shoulder into a far off place, “Well _then_ , it’s clear you’re not here for stock tips Mr.Luthor. So, why did you come?  
  
Sighing Lex leans on his elbows, “Please, call me Lex. Mr.Luthor is my father. I was hoping for some insight into my- into Clark.”

Cassandra’s eyes abruptly stare into his and chills run down his spine. Shaking away the sudden nervousness Lex continues on, “He saved my life that day, under the bridge, but he’s the biggest mystery in my life and I need to _know_.”

Cassandra purses her lips, “Most people are mysterious and that is why we get to know them. Have you thought just to ask him? Or to wait until he’s ready to confide in you?”

Lex reaches in his pocket, “I’d be willing to treat this as a professional service, Ms.Carver.”  
  
Cassandra’s face is unreadable as the words slip out of his mouth, “Save your money, Lex. I won’t tell you anything about Clark you don’t already know.”

The false smile slips off of his face and tightens as Cassandra offers a hand, “I can only tell the future of a person I touch. Would you care to take a gander?”  
  
Lex sits back in his chair, trying not to scowl, “I don’t need to know _my_ future.”  
  
Cassandra chides him,“Why? Does your father already have everything mapped out for you?”

A red flush creeps up Lex’s neck and face, as he struggles to keep his voice level, “I believe we make our own destiny.”

Cassandra tries to entice him to take her hand, “Don’t you want a glimpse of the future you’ll create, Lex? The friendship the legends will be written about? Maybe I'll see your Clark....or maybe I'll see something else.”

Lex’s hands curl into fists as stands from his chair, buttoning his suit jacket, “Thank you, for the conversation Ms.Carver, it has been enlightening.”  
  
Cassandra smiles at his retreating back, her raspy voice carrying to his ears clearly, “Come back when you’re ready, Lex. I’ll still be here.”  
  
Lex Luthor leaves the Smallville Retirement Center off kilter, unjustifiably angry, and very, very frustrated.

 

* * *

  
  
Clark shook the dirt off of his jacket, having rushed through his chores after taking care of Harry Volt, the afternoon sun scorching the earth. Content in the knowledge that the authorities would find his aged body and think nothing of the cause of death. A premeditated heart attack due to drugs that would disappear before anyone got to do an autopsy, Clark loved his knowledge of the future, hard earned as it was.

He walks through the door and is immediately flabbergasted.

His parents turn to him, holding hands and they look nervous, sitting at the dining table.

Suddenly, Clark is too, because whatever _this_ was, hadn’t happened in his last life.

He hangs his coat on a chair, and eyes his parents, making to grab a muffin on the kitchen counter, “Is everything alright? You guys are..” He trails off unsure how to finish.

Together they look at him and speak at the same time, “We want to talk to you, Clark.”

Martha smiles at him, “We decided it was time for a family talk, sweetheart. So. Sit down please.”

Clark sits down warily, muffin halfway to his mouth, “What’s this about?”

Jonathan sighs and looks at Martha. His father fidgets, bouncing his leg up and down, and then Martha speaks softly, “We’ve noticed how...often you speak about Lex, and we want you to know we approve of your friendship with him. We wanted to get that out there before everything else.”

Jonathan nods at Martha’s words and looks him in the eyes, “Also, Clark, we want you to know, we love you no matter what, you hear me, son?”

Clark nods hesitantly, slowly chewing on his muffin, and then turns to look at his mother.  
  
Martha wrings her hands, “Well. There’s no other way to say this. Clark we love you, and you’re our son regardless of if you, you know, love..men and women...”

Jonathan buts in, “Or neither. Or all of them. Any one at all. We’re your parents and we want you to know you can tell us _anything,_ and we’ll do our best to support you. ”

Clark forces the muffin down his throat as his head swivels back and forth between his parents.

Voice high pitched and shaky Clark tries not to internally die, “Not that I’m complaining but why are you telling me this? I mean- I appreciate it-” Clark stumbles over his words and curses himself.  
  
Clark watches as his parents share a look of uncertainty and pantomime something, “Are-,” he starts.

Jonathan turns to him and words he never thought his father would say burst from his mouth, “We know you have a crush on Lex Luthor, son.”

Martha groans, throwing her hands in the air, exasperated, “Jonathan! The website said to ease into it!”  
  
Clark sits in his chair, mouth gaping, and against all odds and his Kryptonian biology, feeling faint. His parents speak to him but Clark cannot hear them over the buzzing in his ears. Heart rate rising, Clark tries not to die from the sheer embarrassment that his parents know who he has a crush on. He was a grown man and most definitely not _mortifyingly embarrassed_ that his parents decided to give him a talk about his sexuality and Lex Luthor.  
  
“Sweetheart, can you hear me?”  
  
“Clark, son, are you okay?”  
  
His parents hover over him, hands outstretched, worry on their faces.

He turns scarlet, and stammers, avoiding his parents’ eyes like the plague, “What?! I don’t like, Lex. I mean it’s not like I dream about his eyes- I mean, I don’t like him. What gave you that idea?! Are you sure you guys aren’t working too hard on the farm?” He chuckles nervously and stares at the floor.

“Oh sweetheart,” Martha kneels in front of him and looks up at his face, “We know. I know. A mother eventually knows these things, Clark. I am so sorry if I-,” she chokes on her words, tears streaming down her face, as she buries her face in his leg.

Jonathan places a hand on Clark’s leg, and kneels on the floor beside Martha, “ _We_ are sorry that we didn’t make you feel safe enough to be yourself. That we have _failed_ you as parents, and made you feel like you couldn’t tell us the truth.”

Clark hears his heartbeat roar over his ears as his parents kneel to him and apologize, “ _No._ Ma. Dad. You guys are great. The best parents I could ever ask for. Don’t feel like-” Clark frantically shakes his head, and pulls gently at his parents’ arms, “Stand up, _please_. It’s not your fault! It was all me- I just didn’t want to burden-”

Martha holds him close, crying into his hair, “You are no burden. Do you hear me, Clark Kent? You have never been a burden. Only a blessing.”

Jonathan wraps his arms around Martha and Clark, and presses a kiss to Clark’s head.

They stay wrapped together for a while as the sun sets on the Kent farm.  
  
They untangle themselves and sit properly at the table, tears dried, and ready to talk.  
Jonathan taps on the table, “So...you have a crush on Lex Luthor, son?”  
  
Clark blushes like a fire hydrant, “Dad!”  
  
Martha smiles, at Clark’s embarrassment, “Clark, do you like Lex Luthor, more than a friend?”

Clark hides his face in his hands, and exhales, “Yes, Ma, Dad.”

Martha looks at Clark encouraging him to speak, “And, do you like men and women, or one or-”

“B-both. It means I’m bisexual. Although, I don’t know if it counts since I’m an alien,” Clark squeaks out.

Jonathan clears his throat, “Right, then... Clark. Son, you know you don’t have to act more mature just because you like him? You can act like a kid, Clark.”

Clark gapes as his mother continues his father's point, “We were confused at your newfound maturity, _before_ , and it didn’t click until we found out you liked Lex. Clark, honey, you don’t have to act differently because of the person you like. Just be yourself.”

“But-,” Jonathan began.

Clark wilted, “But?”  
Jonathan’s mouth was set in a firm line, “We know you like men and women. We know you have a crush on Lex Luthor. Have had a crush ever since he moved to Smallville. _But,_ don’t think I forgot that Lex Luthor is a grown man, Clark.”  
  
Clark shuts and opens his mouth unsure of how to reply.

Martha continues on, “Lex Luthor is a grown man, and you are a teenager, Clark. A crush is _fine_ , it means you’re interested! Teenagers have crushes on grown men and women all the time, celebrities wouldn’t have a living if no one did. However, we do not condone any sort of underage shenanigans. We know you’re a teenager, Clark, and maybe you want more freedom and you want to explore... but this is something we will not budge on.”

Jonathan reaches across the table and pats Clark’s shoulder, “Son, you’re growing up. And that means you’re changing. We don’t know exactly how or why but you’re changing and we’ll be here every step of the way, no matter what. Don’t think of this as a ‘we forbid you to even like Lex,’ because it’s not. We just want you to be aware that he is a grown man and you are a teenager. Be his friend, Clark, and when you’re older,-”

“And more mature, and _legal_ ,” Martha cuts in, “Then you can make the decision to pursue him romantically. You’re seventeen, Clark, we don’t want you to think that Lex is all there is to life. Explore. Date, but with permission and empathy and _mutual understanding_. We won’t approve of new boyfriend and girlfriends every week. Is that alright?”

His parents wait nervously for his reply, and Clark warms at their concern, “It’s more than alright. So, I can like Lex. I can have a crush on him, but, nothing _funny_ until I’m legal? That’s great. I didn’t- _before_ , I thought you guys would’ve hated it. I didn’t want to bring it up because I didn’t wait to ruin anything. I’m so happy and I’m so grateful. Thank you, Ma, Dad.”

Clark fumbles through his words, a beaming smile on his face, “How did you guys even know that I liked Lex? I thought I did a good job of hiding it,” Clark trailed off.

Martha laughs, “Lex called. He was worried about you because you were upset. He called and asked a couple questions. Do you want to talk about why you were upset?”

Martha and Jonathan grin as Clark shakes his head back and forth frantically, “No. I’m fine. I feel better. Please, I think I’ve had enough family discussions for a while.”

A shrill ring breaks the warm atmosphere, and Clark looks to his phone, and then to his parents, “It’s Lex.”

The ringing continues and Jonathan breaks into laughter, as Martha fondly shakes her head, “Then answer it son, you don’t need our permission.”

Clark ducks his head, cheeks filling red, and races upstairs to his bedroom. The phone attached to his ear, “Hey, Lex. What’s up?”  
  
He faintly hears papers rustle, “Clark. I thought you were going to keep me ringing. Would you like to come over? I thought you might like to talk about what happened earlier today? Maybe you’d like to stay for dinner?”  
  
Clark breathes in deeply, “Yeah. That would be nice, I’ll have to ask my parents real quick, and see if I can borrow the truck but I think it’ll be a yes.”

Clark can hear Lex smile, as his voice goes deep, “Then I’ll be waiting for you, Clark. I’ll be in my office.”

Clark says goodbye, hangs up and flies down the stairs towards the kitchen, “Ma. Dad. Lex asked if I could come over and if I could stay over for dinner? Also, can I borrow the truck?”

They share a look for what seems the thousandth time of the day and nod, “Have fun sweetheart.

Have a good and honest talk, you hear? Honesty is always important.”  
  
Jonathan nods at Martha’s words, “Be home before midnight, and the keys are on the hanger in my jacket. Now, go, try not to trip too much over your crush, son.”  
  
Clark squawks with false outrage but real embarrassment, and runs off to get the keys.

He lingers by the door as his parents prepare dinner, shuffling around the kitchen, “Thanks Ma, Dad. I love you both. I’ll be back before midnight. Wish me luck!”

Clark takes off for the truck, his parents well wishes at his back.

 

* * *

 

Following behind Lex, Clark walks towards a nondescript room that hid the Porsche he had torn open. ****_  
_ Clark steps into the room and closes the door behind him, pretending to be surprised at the torn up car Lex leads him to, “The Porsche from the accident? Why do you still have it?”  
  
Lex circles the Porsche, “Memories, Clark. I once read about a rich man who survived a hotel fire. He hung onto the ledge for an hour before the fire department rescued him. Afterwards, he bought the hotel and he always stayed in that room. When they asked him why, he said he figured fate couldn't find him twice.”  
  
Clark looks at Lex circling the Porsche and says, “Nice story but I thought you didn’t believe in fate, Lex.”  
  
Lex stops circling and stands next to him, “I don’t...but everytime I look at this car, everytime I look at _you_ , Clark, I wonder.”  
  
Clark look down at him innocently, trying to hide his amusement as Lex prowls around him for an opening.  
  
He stares Clark in the eye, softly speaking, body pulled tight, “I had a team go over this car inch by inch. They tell me there's no way the impact could have ripped open the roof like this. Not with the way I hit the bridge or landed in the river. Clark, do you remember anything about the accident?”  
  
Sighing, Clark looks Lex Luthor in the eyes and debates lying to him again. Remembering the way lies tore apart their friendship in his last life, Clark hesitates for too long. Lex puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, and slowly asks again, “Clark, do you remember anything about the accident?”  
  
Clark shakes his head back and forth, at a loss for words, “I would..tell you, Lex but I..I don’t know if I’m ready. If I _can_ . It’s not just _my_ secret to tell.”  
  
Lex looks unsteady at the idea that there is a secret Clark is hiding from him and struggles to hide the anticipation and curiosity in his eyes. His hand squeezes Clark’s shoulder tightly enough to leave a bruise on a normal person, and he whispers in Clark’s ear, “I’ll wait, Clark. Until you’re ready, but I won’t wait _forever_ .”  
  
There is vindication in his voice, as he whispers and Clark has never felt so elated or terrified. His heart swells as Lex voices his willingness to wait, but lurches at the thought that Lex knew he had a secret.  
  
Lex pulled Clark into a hug, slowly rubbing circles on his back, “I apologize if I brought up bad memories, Clark. I admit I don’t remember much of the accident except for waking up to you. However, the accident wasn’t the only thing I wanted to talk about with you.”  
  
Clark leaned into Lex’s warmth, acutely aware that Lex rarely let others into his personal space, “And what was that?”  
  
“You changed my fate, Clark, however you did. What makes you think we can’t change yours?”  
  
Clark blinks and weakly tries to break away from Lex’s embrace to face him properly, yet Lex’s holds him tightly.

Lex speaks into his ear, voice teetering with an anger that sends shivers down his spine, “I know you were upset earlier, about not being able to marry the love of your life. I’ll tell you this once, Clark. If Lana Lang doesn’t look at you, it’s not the end of the world. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”

Clark sputters at Lex’s words, all but ripping himself gently from his arms, “No! I don’t like Lana, Lex. She’s not who I-”

Lex cages Clark in between his arms, his back brushing the hard metal of the Porsche and Lex’s eyes blazing with anger, “ _Who did she see, who did Cassandra see that made you so upset, Clark?_ ”

Clark gapes at the open display of emotion, floundering for any excuse, as Lex presses in on him. Placing his hands on Lex’s shoulders he tries to lightly push him away, “I didn’t see Lana. I saw someone else, again, _not_ Lana.”  
  
“Who?” Lex spits out between gritted teeth.

Clark looks over Lex’s shoulder, avoiding the eyes he always caves into, “ _Someone_.”

Lex lets out a long and frustrated sigh, “I’ll only ask once more, Clark. I just want to help you. I don’t...like it when you’re upset and it might be within my power to change it.”

Lex tugs on his chin and Clark shyly looks him in the eyes, voice trembling with just the right amount of worry, “A _guy_. I won’t say any names, but a guy.” 

Lex’s grip falters, wide eyed and surprised, frozen in place. Clark takes the small slip up to escape Lex’s overwhelming grasp and takes a deep breath once a couple feet separate them.

“Oh,” Pupils dilated in surprise, Lex turns to look at him and remains speechless. 

Heart racing fast, Clark nervously asks, “Are you okay, Lex? I’ll understand if you-”

Lex rubs his arms to get rid of his goose bumps, and interrupts him with a sharp tone, “Fine. I’m _fine_ , Clark. Don’t even bother to finish that sentence. This changes nothing. Your _sexuality_ changes nothing, Clark. We’re still friends, and we’re still going to be the best, right?”

Lex looks at him, strangely, as if he was seeing Clark in a new light, as Clark clings to his words like a drowning man, “Right. We’re still friends, Lex, no matter what.”  
  
Lex smiles at him shakily, and softly pats him on the shoulder, “Enough talking. I think it’s about time for dinner, are you alright with-”

Laughing, Clark’s eyes light up with happiness, eager to change the subject, “You know I will be. I’ll be happy with just having food in my stomach.”

They both walk slowly towards the kitchen, making small talk, both wondering about the strange fragile stage of friendship they’d walked into.

 

* * *

 

Standing up from her chair, Cassandra spoke, “It’s good to see you, Lex. Are you finally ready?”

Lex smiles, stepping into the room, “Perhaps. I came bearing gifts, an apology for my behavior yesterday.”

“As did the Greeks, but I’ll accept, they do smell rather lovely. Put them on the desk, if you please.” Cassandra settles herself on a comfortable chair, and gestured for Lex to sit closely.

Lex places the bouquet of flowers on the desk, and hesitates, “I wanted to take you up on your offer.”

Cassandra sits, looking off into the far distance, “What happened to the man who thought he controlled his destiny?”

Lex stands, unsure of whether to sit, before frowning, unbuttoning his blazer and sitting down anyway, “I do control my destiny. However, certain things have happened in my life and they’re signs I shouldn’t ignore. Certain secrets that will come to light eventually and while I don’t need a map, some tips couldn’t hurt.”

Cassandra raises a brow, “What kind of signs?”

Lex looks at her weathered hands, and takes a deep breath,“I lived when I should have died. There’s only one reason why I lived that day, and his name is Clark. You see, I don’t want to do good things, I want to do great things,” Lex struggles with his thoughts for a moment, “He...Clark, he makes me want to do _good_ things. Makes me feel like I can be a better man than my father ever was, and that is... _frightening_.” 

Cassandra offers her hand, “Putting faith in people and trusting them not to break us, often is.”

Lex is tempted to pull away from Cassandra, from his future, but the thought of Clark makes him stay, the wanting of knowledge keeps him seated. He reaches for Cassandra’s hand, watches as she closes her eyes, and waits.

Cassandra stills as she watches the future unfurl before her eyes. The Oval Office flashes before her eyes, and Lex Luthor sits a seat of power, smiling. A sense of dread beings to sit in her stomach before dissipating as Clark Kent steps into the office.

She watches them embrace intimately, wedding bands on their hands, lustful whispered words between them.

She sees a shadow lurking in Lex’s eyes, as he embraces Clark and seemingly looks straight at her - straight at the world - and dares them to do anything to endanger Clark. His arms wrap around Clark like a vice, chaining them together for all their time, Clark looking happily into his eyes.

She cannot begrudge his happiness, not after his last life, even if it worries her.

Cassandra shudders as a rain of blood falls from the sky, but it does not touch Lex Luthor, for above him there is Clark, awash in blood, a loving expression on his face. Lex Luthor pulls him down and into a searing kiss.

A series of images flash before her; of people and places; saved or condemned.  
  
Lionel Luthor, she thinks, stands with a sickly piece of glowing green rock, and Clark Kent at his feet, chained and bloodied. Her heart races as a disquieting smile splits his face.

She watches as Lex Luthor screams, and screams, and _screams_ , as his father rips open Clark Kent, rips open his _heart_ , and damned Humanity to hell on earth.

Cassandra sees a love that will either raze the world or bring it to the greatest heights it had ever seen. Then she screams as she pulls back into reality, because images flash before her eyes of blood, and ruin, and chaos, - of all the ways their path could end _wrong_ and hopes with all her might that Clark and Lex might have a happy one.

She eyes shoot open, and she shudders looking into Lex Luthor’s curious eyes, feeling like she’d seen the darkness lurking beneath. She rips her hands from his, then slowly, taking deep breaths, she sighs the tension melting from her body.

Lex leans forward, as he pulls his hand back, “What did you see?”

Cassandra clears her throat, “I saw many things, Lex. I saw in you a capacity to be not only great, but _good_ . I saw Clark at your side, hale and alive, and _loving_ . Yet, your father lurked in the shadows waiting to rip your happiness away from you, waiting to rip your heart to pieces. You already had your suspicions that Clark was different from others. Be careful Lex, his secret would tear him from you if your father knew of it. Lionel hears a great many things he shouldn’t.”  
  
The look in his eyes is severe as she warns him, angry and weary in equal measure.  
  
Cassandra shifted her gaze to look him squarely in the eyes, “You reach for a man who does not exist in your father, hoping that one day you can see in him what your mother loved. However, you will not find it chasing after an ideal that does not exist. All that the world has taught you, all that you have experienced and you still do not accept your fears. Learn to embrace them. The immortal man is the one who accepts his mortality, Lex, and the man who embraces his fear is never without light.”

Lex scoffs as she speaks, “Accept my fears? Do you think I got anywhere-”

“Your company position is not what I speak of and you know that.” She berates, “Lex, There is a wall around your heart, and you fear the power your loved ones have over you. You fear trusting them, loving them, and if you’re not careful it will not only be _your_ undoing but Clark’s too. You and Clark are two sides of the same coin, you _need_ each other to be balanced, without secrets, without suspicion.”

Lex sits in silence and thinks upon Cassandra’s words, “And did you tell Clark the same?”

Cassandra chuckles silently, “I have yet to have another conversation with him since the first. He’ll come by eventually.”  
  
“Did you see anything else?”

Cassandra hums, “A rain of blood poured from the heavens, and stained the world. Love and Possession have very delicate lines. You can love someone and obsess over them just as you can possess them and never know any better.”

Lex stands, buttoning his blazer closed, and sighs, “Thank you for your advice, Ms. Carver. I’ll be sure to take it into consideration.”

Cassandra watches as Lex Luthor leaves her room, a headache building in her temples, and sighs, wishing the future was less complicated.

 

* * *

 

Later that day, Clark grasps Cassandra’s hand in his and rubs a circle with his thumb, “I’m sorry you had to see that, Cassandra.”

Cassandra sighs, whispering in a tired voice, “It makes no difference to me, Clark, but all the difference to Lex. To _you_.” She takes a drink of water and sets the cup on her side table licking her chapped lips.

“Tell me, Clark,” she pauses thinking, “How far are you willing to go to ensure Lex’s happiness? His safety? Your future together?”

Clark shifts, mouth set in a grim line, “You told me once, Cassandra, in my other life, that I could fear the future, or I could embrace it. I will _embrace_ my future. All the blood I will spill, the _evils_ I commit, will usher in a better tomorrow. I know it’s a slippery slope to climb, to reason with but I _must_ . I killed the people I had to in my last life and it still haunts me. Even if I were to see them happy again, in this life, their ghosts, their screams and cries will linger until my dying day, yet I do not regret it. I know I am a monster and I have made my peace with it. I still want to do good, still want to _redeem_ myself although I know such a thing will never be possible.”

Cassandra looks at Clark, really looks at him and sees the broken pieces that make up Clark Kent. Sees the truth he will reveal to no one but her and she grieves.

For the forces that were had broken a good man and drove him mad with despair.  
For the man so lost in his pain he’d seen no other way than to start again.  
  
Cassandra pats his hand, “You’ll be better, one day, Clark. Maybe not now, not ten years in the future, but one day.” She looks at Clark’s posture and frowns, flicking his spine in order for him to straighten up.  
  
“You have to trust him Clark, truly trust him this time. Your biology is not the only secret you carry now.”  
  
Clark furrows his eyebrows, mouth opening, “I do trust him. I just need a bit of time to figure out how I’m going to tell him everything..alien about me. I come with _a lot_ of baggage.”  
  
She gives him a stern look, “I know you do. I _know_ this, but Lex does not. He knows you hide secrets you aren’t ready to tell him, he knows this and he doesn’t push. If you wait too long, Clark, he’ll be lost to you again, and this time, by your own hand.”  
  
Clark winces, fidgeting with his hands, “I know. I fear every day that one day he’ll snap like he did in the past and he’ll be hurt because I didn’t tell him. But I know this isn’t something I can just blurt out, it isn’t something I can tell him right away because now I am _weak_ . My Lex, here and _now_ isn’t as powerful as he was in my last life. He still believes in the good of humanity, is willing to give them a chance, if I tell him the truth...and something happens to him...” He trails off, voice cracking, “ If something happens to him because he knows what I _am_ , what I can _do_ , I’ll never be able to live with myself.”

Cassandra stays silent, for there is nothing she can say that will soothe Clark. They both know the snake that waits in the grass, willing to do anything even at the expense of his own son. Lionel Luthor was a problem, a problem Clark didn’t have the resources to take care of.

“Your friend, Lex, has a great many questions, Clark. And only you can give him the answers. Remember that.” Cassandra coughs slightly, tired of speaking of a future so doused in blood and hope.

Clark’s breathing suddenly hitches, sitting at Cassandra’s bedside, frozen, eyes blank, and she worries, before he runs out of the room, an unseeable blur.

In his barn, resting on the chair, Clark shudders as memories slam into him, choking him with an icy grip.  
  
Clark remembers.

Hurts with a vengeance even as triumph fills his gut.

He shudders as past memories flood him with emotion, fanatic to crawl their way out of his subconscious.

 

* * *

 

The present falls to pieces as the past drags him back into its embrace.

His voice echoes in his memories, overwhelming in its anger, "I may leave behind a mountain of corpses but I'll also have left the world a better place than it ever was, Diana. This world deserves to burn."  
  
Diana trembled with anger even as tears rolled down her face, "It does not deserve to burn for one man. Certainly not for _Lex Luthor_.” She spat, holding her sword tightly at her side, eyes burning with power, “We were friends, Kal-El. We were family to each other!  I will never forgive you, for the wrong you've done. I will hunt you until my last breath, it is the only promise I make you. I will hunt you for the man I knew would _never_ stand this _Injustice_ you have brought upon Humanity. You cannot hide forever, Kal-El, one day Humanity will see you for what you’ve become."

Tears dripped from his eyes, voice shaking with sorrow, "I never wanted to do this, Diana. But this world is _wrong_ . And I have to fix it. I have to _change_ it.” He tries to smile at her, but instead grimaces, “For what it's worth, Diana, you were family, a great friend - and an even greater adversary. I am sorry, that we had to come to this. I will remember you, and your mistakes, so that they may never happen again. You'll be happy one day, Diana, and you'll never know it, but it'll be because of me."

Diana charged at him, sword in hand, baring herself and her teeth, for only one of them would come out alive.

Clark smiled even as his heart ripped to pieces, and steeled himself to fight the woman he grew to call his sister.

When the fires settled, and the smoke cleared, it was her broken body found amidst the rubble, a red cape draped over her battle torn figure. The world mourned for a lost hero - her killer still at large, powerful beyond belief, and unknown.

Clark floated above the world, alone in the vacuum of space and cried at Diana’s missing heartbeat. For all that he was one step closer to his goal, he wished she’d stepped aside.

Yet as he grieved and continued on, the Beacon of Hope, cloaked in shadow, in blood, and _guilt_ marched forward for his mission.

  



	5. Jitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lex-” he pauses, searching for the words, “Lex, I’m different from other people.” He stood still, nerves alight with every second Lex sat in silence.
> 
> “I just need to see you, hold you, Clark. Talking can wait."
> 
> "You saved not only my son, but everyone else’s children as well, Lex. You’re a good man, and I’m glad you’re in our lives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! It's on time! You guys have no idea how much I want to sleep right now...seriously. It's 8:44pm (at the time I write this note before editing) and I want to go to sleep early, I almost didn't update on time...don't blame me too much okay?? It's raining outside and it's windy and everything is PERFECT for a nap.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy the chapter, you have no idea how much I was spinning in circles with this chapter, constantly rewriting and wondering what to do next and how/what would affect the plot of future. Anyways, I finally got through it and I'm seriously considering making a out-takes series because the amount of ideas that come to me as I write are many!! Most of them hilarious! And I'm trying to make this story serious...so comedy isn't the focal point. But guys...it's just to tempting to try to make it funny. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter, I managed to make it quite long this time as well (unintentionally that is) so enjoy it while it lasts, loves. Hope you love it enough to leave a comment!
> 
> P.s. Also, just so you know, every time I write "Clark yawned," or something to that effect, it's really me yawning IRL...even thinking about it makes me sleepy.

 

“Waste no more time arguing about what a good man should be. Be one.” - Marcus Aurelius Seneca

 

* * *

 

Martha shuffles around the kitchen, writing a list of chores,“What else? Oh, don't use the upstairs bathroom. It's backed up. I have to snake the pipes.”

Clark opens the fridge door, grabbing the leftover pizza and bites into it, ravenous. Talking around his food, facing his mother he says, “Don’t even worry about it, don’t worry about _anything_. I’ll do it later.”

Martha smiles fondly at him, and parts his messy bed head into something neater, “Thank you, Clark. Try not to do everything, we still want to have some work to do when we get home.”

“Clark! Can I get some help out here?” Jonathan yells from outside, voice tinged with impatience.

Wagging his eyebrows at his mother, Clark set down his pizza on the counter leaving the house as she started to laugh.

Walking along the dirt road, Clark smiles at his father, “Morning, Dad.”

Jonathan grins at him, and gestures lifting up the truck, “Morning, son, would you mind?”  
  
Placing hand on the trucks’ back bumper, he gently lifted as his father got under it and muttered, “Truck picked one hell of a day to snap an exhaust hanger. I’m lucky it didn’t happen on the way there.”

Martha approached him and rapidly spoke, slightly nervous, buttoning Clark’s shirt up higher,“I left the room number and phone number of our hotel on the nightstand. If you’re hungry you can nuke the chili for dinner. Then there’s money in the jar if you want to deliver pizza. If you make food, _please_ don’t burn the kitchen down. I think that’s everything.”

Jonathan gets up from under the truck, “That ought to do it, son.”

Clark places the truck back down, and Jonathan pats his shoulder, “I am definitely raising your allowance.”

Martha looks him in the eyes, “If you need anything-”

Clark grins at his mother, “Call. Ma, it’s a couple nights in Metropolis. I’ll be fine and so will the kitchen.”

“He’ll be fine, Martha. We gotta get going.” Jonathan motions to his wristwatch, opening the truck door for Martha.

Clark’s eyes widen, before he pulls a white envelope out from his back pocket, “I almost forgot, here, Happy Anniversary.”

Martha kissed him on the cheek, “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Jonathan throws the rag he was using into Clark’s waiting hands, as Martha hops in the truck, “Thanks for the card, son, take care.” Jonathan races to the drivers side and starts the truck.

As they back out Clark waves goodbye, smiling, and hoping his parents enjoyed their anniversary this time around.

Driving down the road, away from home, Martha sighs as Clark shrinks in the distance, worry etched in her face.

Martha turns her head to Jonathan, and asks, “Do you think he’ll mind that we asked Lex to watch over him while we’re gone? What if he thinks we don’t trust him?”

Jonathan’s eyes flicker to Martha, before settling firmly on the road, “We do trust him, Martha. It’s not like we asked Lex to babysit. Just to call every day and ask how he is. Let’s not worry and enjoy our time okay?”

Martha squeezes Jonathan’s hand on the wheel, “Okay. But-”

“No buts. Lex has it totally in hand. You know Clark isn’t the kind of teenager to cause trouble.”

Nodding, Martha calmed down, and resting her head on the window watching the farmland pass by.

With his parents gone, Clark hurries through his morning routine with his super speed and walks back into the kitchen to sit down and enjoy his pizza. Thoughtfully chewing, Clark thinks about how to tastefully disagree with any party ideas Chloe or Pete may come up with as they walked to the school bus.

He stretches, wishing his teenage body didn’t need so much sleep, before putting his empty plate in the sink to wash after school.

Groaning, he hurries to grab his backpack and be on his way to the school bus before getting left behind.  
  
Clark walks cheerful but tired with Pete and Chloe on his way to the school bus. Walking alongside him, Pete asks, “What’re you gonna do now that you’re officially alone?”

Clark raises his eyebrows at Pete’s excited tone, “I was going to spend the time doing my chores and some of my Ma and Dad’s chores.”

Chloe yawns in mockery, as they walk closer to the bus,“Boring! You have three days, Clark, _three_.”

Pete rolls his eyes, and shoves Clark playfully, “You parents are finally out of town! Man, Clark, you could throw a party! Imagine! It would be so cool. Everyone would love that.”

Chloe jumps with excitement, clapping her hands together, “Now that's what I’m talking about! Your parents are out of town and they don’t need to know-”

Clark frowns, “No. They’re finally trusting me enough to leave me alone, Chloe. I won’t ruin that by throwing a house party no one will remember in a week, Pete.” Clark looks at his friends sternly, and asks a question,“Would any of your parents let you throw a house party if they left you alone for an anniversary?”

Pete and Chloe shut their mouths, replies dying off in an instant, as they huff, boarding the school bus. Clark walks up the stairs and knowing he had won their impromptu argument and their ire.

 

* * *

 

Setting his backpack on the kitchen chair, Clark flies by his homework, filling in his homework with the speed of the frazzled, overworked, and underpaid journalist he used to be. It was rather freeing to not have a job, kind of like a vacation he never bothered to take.

Sitting back in his chair, minutes after, Clark carefully organizes his schoolwork into his binder, mindful of all his assignments and due dates. Once he finished organizing he shoves the entire binder into his backpack, flying up the stairs, and placing it at the foot of his bed.

Grabbing a small sticky note on his wall, Clark mutters his chore list before checking off his homework with red pen. Placing it behind his ear, Clark races downstairs to grab the toilet snake and unclog the toilet upstairs, mindful to put on gloves in case things got messy.

Thirty minutes later, Clark unclogged the toilet and watched, satisfied, as it flushed cleanly and without a stutter.

He washed the toilet snake and hung it back on the barn, eager to get inside and watch a movie in the living room.

Raiding the fridge for snacks, Clark dropped everything on the counters as the landline rung shrilly into the quiet.

Phone on his shoulder, Clark speaks into the receiver, “Hello, this is Clark Kent, speaking.”

A warm voice answers him, “Clark, Good Afternoon, how was school?”

Clark blinks pleasantly surprised at Lex’s unexpected phone call, “Lex! Didn’t know you were going to call. School was fine, a bit boring if I’m honest.” He twirls the cord in between his fingers, and stifles a yawn, “Nothing but school and chores keeping me busy, but I don’t mind. My parents are out of town for a couple of days, so it’ll be good to get my chores done early.”

Clark picks up Lex’s mild hum, “Is that so? How long exactly and where did they go? Your parents aren’t the type to unexpectedly take a vacation.”

Clark laughs, “It’s their anniversary, they spend three Clark-free days in Metropolis, being the ooey gooey parents I don’t want to see. Every year after they come back, Dad and Ma plan their next anniversary trip a year in advance. Usually they leave me with a babysitter, but I guess they decided I’m old enough to look after myself this year.”

“That’s nice. It..must be nice see them be that close,” Lex speaks into the phone, and Clark’s heart stutters at the briskly jealous tone that hides in Lex’s voice.

He bites his lip, answering in a softer voice,“Yeah, it is. They’re great. A-Are you alright, Lex?”

“I’m fine, Clark. There’s nothing wrong,” Lex intonation is cheerful, as he talks but Clark can feel the simmering emotions lying beneath his white lie.

Clark sighs into the receiver, “So...we have a class field trip to your plant tomorrow. You think it’s going to be any fun?”

Lex’s laugh crackles in the receiver, “Well, it’ll certainly be more entertaining then doing the paperwork for it. Though I can’t say for certain. You’ll have to give me a summary of how _exciting_ the tour was. Maybe it’ll be all the rage in Smallville in a years’ time.”

Clark covers his mouth trying to silence his laughter, “Yeah, only if you put a coffee shop better than The Beanery in there. Then all the cool kids will want in.”

Lex snickers into the phone, “It was good talking to you, Clark. If you need anything-”

“Pfft, I’ll be fine. Honest, Lex, have you been talking with my parents? I swear you guys all think I’ll suddenly die if I’m by myself for more than a night.”

“I just worry, Clark, and you parents do too. Try not to start a party without me, alright?”

Uncoiling the cord from his fingers, Clark pouts as their conversation winds to a close, “Trust me, I won’t, but maybe I’ll take a walk and stop to smell the roses. Bye, Lex, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Goodbye, Clark. Be careful on that walk, I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Not if I call you first!” Clark, feeling abruptly childish hangs up first, Lex’s laugh echoing in his mind, as his cheeks flush with color.

Mind off of Lex, Clark grabs his snacks and heads to the living room. He was content to wait for Earl to come around and call the hospital, wondering if he should break the news of Earl’s hospital stay to his parents.

Miles away in Metropolis Martha and Jonathan Kent settle down at a fancy restaurant to order dinner. Martha looks at the skyline, thoughts a million miles away, “I should call him, just real quick. To see how he is.”

Jonathan gives her a smile, worry finely hidden in his eyes,“Fine, go ahead, our romantic dinner can wait for one phone call.”

Martha smiles at him and beckons a waiter to ask a question, “Hello, excuse me, can I use the phone to make a call? It won’t be longer than a few minutes.”

The server nods, “Of course, Madam. Please, this way.”

They walk towards a phone, and the server bows as they leave Martha to make her call.

In Smallville, Clark pauses his movie, stretched out on the couch after the Earl fiasco and the ambulance lights walking slowly to pick up the ringing landline.

“Hello, Kent Farm, this is Clark Kent, speaking.” Clark stifles a yawn, tired of always feeling _tired_.

“Clark, sweetheart are you okay?” Martha’s voice is tinged with concern.

“I’m fine, Ma. Nuked the chili for dinner, made some cornbread. I didn’t burn down the kitchen which was a plus! Also, I did some chores, and I’m currently watching movies.”

“That’s fantastic, honey. Are you sure you don’t-”

“I’m fine, doing great and I’ll even go to sleep on time, Ma. Now go enjoy your anniversary! It only happens once a year, you know?”

Martha smiles into the phone, relieved, “Okay. You take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

“Will do, Ma. Good night, say hi to dad for me.”

Martha hangs up the phone, and walks back to their table, relief evident on her face.

Jonathan pulls out her chair for her, and then takes his own. “He says he’s fine.” Martha skims the menu, “Ate chili for dinner and is watching movies, he also says Hi.”

“Good,” Jonathan says, resting his hand on hers, “See, he’s doing alright, Martha. He wouldn’t throw some crazy teenage party with us gone.”

She grins at him, “I know, but still I worry.”

Jonathan looks at the night sky, a wistful look on his face, “I know. Metropolis, do you miss it?”

Martha looks out to the monochrome buildings, glittering alongside the stars, and shakes her head, “Sometimes, but I didn’t move to Smallville for action and glamour. I moved because a man told me we’d never be rich, or travel the world, but he’d always love me. That one day we’d have a family, and we do. How could I pass up an offer like that?”

Jonathan grips her hand tighter faint tears in his eyes. Kissing her sweetly, they are lost in their own world, together.

 

* * *

 

Stretched out on the couch, Clark yawns, a strange guilt bubbling in his gut. He couldn’t help Earl, not last time and not this time. Clark had come back to save Lex, to change their path together, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to help others where he could.

Clark rewound the VHS tape, a disgusted pout on his face at the slow speed.

The technology of the future wouldn’t be invented for decades and Clark bemoaned the fact every day that he had to dial up the internet. _Dial up_ . Clark shivered in disgust because it was worse in Smallville because it was _rural_.

Clark hadn’t known how much he would miss the modern world. Not until he realized YouTube didn’t exist, Social Media didn’t exist, and the coolest thing to do in Smallville was swim at the Y,  roam around after hours at school, or hang out at The Beanery. He was slowly dying of boredom.

Scratch that he was already dead. Clark groaned, curling up on the couch, he was a week away from raiding any library within a bus rides’ distance. Perhaps even raiding Lex’s library, wondering if he should challenge himself to read every book within it. Maybe Lex would enjoy his company.

What did the radio or the TV or the news help if he already knew what was and would become popular? Clark was drowning in boredom, trying to entertain himself with decades old technology.

Sitting up abruptly, he threw away his wrappers and shoved the uneaten junk food into the pantry. He shoved his shoes on and raced towards Miller’s Field, intent on finding the key to his ship and healing his mother with it.

Standing in Miller’s Field under the night sky, Clark inhales deeply, the cold sharp smell of the wind whipping around him. He scans the ground with his X-Ray vision, and smiles when he finds the key, barely under a foot of soil. He grabs the dirt clogged octagon with his jacket, careful not to make physical contact with it, lest Jor-El wake early.

He thinks upon the Kawatche caves, and resolves to fall in a bit earlier than intended so Lex could swoop in and steal them from Lionel. Smiling, Clark wondered if he should let Lex chase after stories, all while dropping hints of his powers, to see what conclusion Lex would come up with. Debating with himself on the way home, wavers and decides it was a problem for another day. Clark wraps the key in his jacket and runs into the barn. Climbing the stairs in a blur, he none too gently cuts out a octagon shaped space in a book Lex liked to toy with and places it inside.

Clark’s chest ached for the day Lex decided to snoop around while visiting and discovered the key. He wondered what Lex would say, what Lex would _do_ . Wondered how he would confront him, _if_ he would. Right now, Lex was stated, because he _knew_ there was a secret, but Clark wondered, would he stay that way as more added to the mystery?

Resting on his plush chair, Clark began nodding off, dreaming of a time there were no lies or secrets between him and Lex, where they were happy and in love, and by Rao, Clark _hoped_.

 

* * *

 

The morning sun shone through the stained glass windows of Luthor Manor as Lex Luthor circled his desk, Cassandra’s words echoing in his head. _Lionel hears a great many things he shouldn’t._ He paced listlessly, running a hand over his head in frustration. Trying to calm himself, Lex inhaled deeply, yet his body thrummed with impatience.

Leaning over his desk, Lex sighed and sank into his chair. What had she meant? What did his father hear? What was so important that Clark would be ripped from him if his father ever found out? A building anger crept into his veins at the thought that anyone would take Clark away from him, but he quelled it quickly. It wasn’t the time for unpredictable emotions, wasn’t the time to dwell over things that might not happen.

He sat at his desk thoughts running rampant, and Clark’s voice popped into his head. _Maybe I’ll take a walk and stop to smell the roses._ Standing, he leaned over and grabbed the vase of roses on his desk, wondering if they’d smell half as sweet as Clark. Freezing, he stared at the roses a moment too long, their white petals blooming in the sunlight. Inhaling sharply, he gripped the vase tightly and plucked out a thin listening device. A _bug_. Indeed his father had been hearing a great many thing he shouldn’t.

His father had been listening in, had bugged the Manor without his knowledge. His father played him like a fiddle, the serpent coveting his secrets. A great and terrible anger welled up inside of him. Shaking, he gently placed the vase of roses on his a nearby stand, flipping the desk over in fury.

He had some cleaning to do.

 

* * *

 

Clark yawned into his elbow as they walked into the LuthorCorp plant, Chloe chattering with Lana at his side.

“Hello, everybody.” Gabe Sullivan greeted the class, clipboard in hand, “I'm Gabe Sullivan, plant manager and proud father.” He waved to grimacing Chloe, “Hi, sweetheart.”

Lana smiles as Chloe pretends to be embarrassed, and grudgingly replies,“Hi, Dad.”

“Welcome to Luthorcorp, where we give a crap.”

The embarrassment, now real, makes Chloe slide behind Lana, and hide in her hair. Lana bursts into giggles as Pete and Clark chuckle.

Gabe laughs as he speaks, “A little bit of fertilizer humor there, or else working here would _stink_.” He mimes scrunching his nose and twisting his mouth as if he smelled something horrible.

“All right, jokes aside, before we go inside, I need you to remove all your cell phones, or jewelry. Anything that jangles, dangles, or rings needs to go in these plastic trays right here. We don’t want any workplace accidents to happen, okay?”

Sighs broke the collective silence of the class, as they checked their pockets and got rid of any jewelry or accessories filing the plastic trays to the brim.

“Good. If that’s all of it, this way! We need to stay together, no wandering off okay?”

They walk boring hallways filled with gray brick walls and shiny laminate floors, before Gabe walks them through a door.  

He lifts his hands into the air, spinning on his heel to showcase the room, “This is it. The plant's mission control. 100,000 tons of animal waste is processed here every year. The last thing you want to be eating for lunch is the beans, trust me, we already have plenty of crap here.”

The class breaks into laughter, sans Clark, and Pete asks, “Hey, Chloe, where’s Clark?”

Smile on her face, Chloe arches a curious brow, “Looks like someone developed the exploring bug. Let's hope he’s managed to find something Torch worthy.”

 

* * *

 

Lex drives his Porsche through the gates of the LuthorCorp plant, mobs of angry parents and news reporters aching to swarm him. He parks his Porsche carelessly and walks to the monitors, the armored captain behind him, ready to follow any of his orders.

The captain stands at attention,“Sir?”

Lex barely spares him a glance, “Do you know why this lunatic has decided to make these people hostages?”

He shakes his head, “No, sir.”

“Do you know anything else about the situation?”

The captain gulps, “Just his name, sir,

Annoyance seeps into his tone, “I _know_ his name. Can you tell me his motive?”

“No, sir.”  
Lex looks over the monitors freezing as worry grips his heart and strangles him from giving any orders. Clark is missing and the cameras don’t show him. He tries to quell the panic rising in him, he’d promised Martha and Jonathan he’d look after Clark.

He _failed._   

 

* * *

 

In the control room Gabe looks at his daughter, and prays for help, trying to hide the terror on his face as Earl Jenkins points a gun at his head, “I swear, I don’t know anything about a Level 3.”

Earl grits his teeth, “You’re _lying_.”

Clark bursts into the room, rolled blueprints in his hands, “It’s not a lie, Earl. I found these blueprints. There is no level 3.”

“ _Please_ ,” Clark begs, “Let them go, Earl. You don’t need to do this.”

Earl snatches the papers from Clark’s hands, anger seeping through every crevice of his face, voice cracking, “E-Every night, I go down to Level 2. I follow the red pipes down that long hallway, I go to the door, I open it, and I take the elevator down to Level 3!”

Earl throws the blueprints to the floor in a fit of anger, and Clark winces, “Sit down, Clark. I don’t want to hurt you, even if you are like the rest of them.”

Clark sits down, wringing his hands, miserable that he hadn’t been able calm Earl down and avoid any confrontation with him and Lex.

 

* * *

 

Lex breathes a sigh of relief as Clark appears on camera, somehow with blueprints in his hands. He watches Clark plead for the lunatic to release them as the blueprints are snatched from his hands.

His head turns at the sound of a chopper cutting the air, Lionel Luthor gracing Smallville with his imperious presence. The captain runs to his father, “Mr.Luthor, we have a hostage situation.”

“Yes, I was briefed on my way down,” Lionel yells over the chopper, walking towards Lex his tone disgruntled, “Lex! How did you allow this to happen?”

Lex stands straight, his father’s words bubbling up the morning’s anger. Shaking his head, Lex pushed it away. “I think-”

Lionel frowns, “You think? Why don’t you know, Lex?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but his father turns to the captain forgoing him entirely, “What is your assessment of this lunatic?”

The captain stands stiffly, “He’s desperate for some reason we can’t ascertain, Mr.Luthor, enough to take children as hostages. He’s wild, and unpredictable, sir.”

“Father,” Lex cuts in, “There are children’s lives at stake. We can’t j-”

“None of that emotion, Lex.” His father tuts, “What have I taught you? I’m going to let SWAT do their jobs. When he makes a mistake, they’ll move in.”

“ _Dad_ . If any of those children get hurt do you know the ramifications LuthorCorp could face for _years_?”

“Lex, _son_ ,” Lionel says patronizing, “I want everyone to walk out of the plant alive too, but I do not negotiate with terrorists.”

Lex sucks in a deep breath, “If you won’t try at least let _me_.”

He dials Gabe Sullivan’s number and sighs in relief when he picks up, “Gabe, I’m going to pass you to my father.”

He hands the microphone to his father, pleased at the expression on his face, “It’s Luthor.”

 

* * *

 

Inside the plant, Earl walks closer to the telephone, as Gabe puts it on speaker, “Mr.Luthor, I finally got your attention, haven’t I?”

“Earl, why don’t you come out? We’ve got a lot to talk about. Especially as to why you are doing this.”

Earl snarls, “Just tell me what you were using down in Level 3.”

Lionel sighs, “You’re sick, Earl. Let everyone go. We’ll get you help.”

Earl doesn’t answer, just begins to shake. He clings to the valve, throwing Clark back when he tries to help.

The valve falls to the floor and the gauge shows the methane level rising in the room, Earl panics, voice tight, “Oh no. See what you made me do, Luthor? Do you?”

Lex forces his body to stay relaxed and throws a barbed quip, mind replaying the way Clark was thrown away like a rag doll, “Way to go, dad. I see you haven’t lost your touch.”

Earl looks to the children in the room, horror in his face, “Your methane gas valve broke. This whole place is going to blow.”

Behind him Whitney murmurs to Clark, curled up where he was thrown, “We can take him. Two against one, Kent. I’m not placing my life in the hands of that-”

Clark shakes his head, “I-I can’t. He’s an old family friend. I _can’t,_ Whitney.”

Chloe looks to him worried, and Pete rubs his shoulder, “We understand, man.”

Lana looks at Whitney, worried, “Whitney, _no_. He has a gun. If you get shot-”

Whitney looks at the fear on his classmates’ faces, “If no one is going to do anything, I _will_. I’m not going to die here when all I have to do was punch out a crazy man.”

“Luthor, I trusted-” Earl cuts himself short, and yells at Whitney, “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

Whitney rips the gun out of Earls hands, but drops like a bag of bricks as Earl punches him. Earl retrieves the gun, as Lana screams and runs with Chloe to Whitney’s side.

Earl shakes, and points the gun up at the camera, “This is all your fault, Luthor.” He grimaces and shoots the camera.

 

* * *

 

Lex allows himself to hope for one second, just _one_ , that somehow his father will fix everything, _somehow_.

Ringing in his ear, Cassandra reads him like an open book, _You reach for a man who does not exist in your father, hoping that one day you can see in him what your mother loved._

Then the valve breaks, the methane is free, building pressure rises, and the gun goes off destroying the camera, and any chance at a peaceful negotiation. Any chance that Clark would come out alive.

He _shatters_.

The SWAT captain yells into his radio, “We got shots fired, one hostage down. Full alert, team.”

Lionel runs his fingers through his hair, a clear sign of frustration, “What was that boy thinking?”

“Teenagers show acute distress symptoms and often act in fight or flight when faced with tough situations, sir. Aptly put, he wasn’t thinking. We would send someone in, Sir, but worry that it would expedite the situation and the perpetrator's desperation if an Agent came to talk to him.”

Lex chokes on his silence, until a burning desperation flares to life in him, “I’ll do it. I’ll go in.”

Lionel turns on his heel and berates him, “Don’t be foolhardy. This isn’t the time for mock-heroics.”

Lex grits his teeth, “You said this was my plant. This is my call. I won’t let this go on any longer than it already has, not with all those hostages.”

Lionel grabs his arm with a bruising grip, “I won’t let you do this, Lex. I will not allow it.” Lex can almost convince himself those words came from a place of love.

Lex looks at his father, his face a steel mask, and murmurs low, “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Tell Earl Jenkins, Lex Luthor is coming to see him.”

The captain freezes, “I wouldn’t advise that, sir.”

Lex briskly walks away, panic eating away at his calm, “Make the call.”

 

* * *

 

Lex walks the same halls he always had, a new sense of urgency and panic devouring him from within.

The bulletproof vest barely assuages his fears. He is Lex Luthor, and he is not afraid for _himself_. No. He’s afraid for Clark, sweet and righteous, Clark who tried to beg and reason with an insane man.

Earl scoffs as Lex Luthor steps into the room, “What kind of man, what kind of father sends his own child to do his dirty work?”

Lex steps closer to Lana Lang, “I don’t do dirty work for anyone, Earl. This is my plant, my responsibility.” He looks to her and asks gently, “Ms.Lang, how is he?”

Lana hold’s Chloe’s hand tightly, unwilling to stare Lex in the eyes,“H-he needs a doctor, Mr.Luthor.”

Lex turns to Earl, frown evident on his face, “What are we going to do about these kids, Earl?”

Earl shakes his head, “I never meant to hurt anyone. I tried talking to your father, but he didn’t listen. Nobody's _listening_.”

Lex laughs dryly, “Believe me, I know the feeling.” Lex unbuttons his vest, and throws it to the floor, close to Clark. “Earl, you think everyone has been lying to you, that no one is listening. I'll tell you the truth. My father doesn't care about you or for what you’re doing.”  
  
He pauses, mouth dry, “He doesn't care about anybody in this room, beyond the PR paychecks he’ll have to dole out to manage the aftermath. If we all die here, in this plant with what he pays them, his P.R. firm will spin it, his insurance company will pay out emotional damages like candy, and you, Earl, will go down as the bad guy. Mentally unstable. His behavior a precursor to a horrific tragedy no one would’ve seen coming. I know you don’t want that, not for yourself, and I know you wouldn’t want this to follow your family.”

Earl’s eyes moisten, “I’m not a bad guy. I’m _not_ . I just want to get better, so I can go home to my family. My wife, my _son_.”

He extends a hand towards Earl, “And I understand that, Earl, but how are you going to get better by killing a bunch of kids? If you let everybody go, I’ll take you to level three.”

Earl points his gun at Lex and Clark flinches, sweat dripping down his temple. “Stop lying!”

“Let them go, _please_.” Lex stares at Clark, and they share a gaze, lost and desperate in tandem. Lex swallows thickly, wishing it could last forever, then looks Earl in the eyes,“Trust me, Earl, unlike my father, I’m a man of my word.”

Earl wavers, gun pointed to the floor, “Go! Get out. Get out. Everybody get out!”

The students swarm towards the door, crying tears of desperation and sweet relief.

Clark hesitates as Earl yells at his classmates, “Lex. You _can’t_. Do you even know where it is?”

Lex drinks in the sight of Clark like a desperate man, “It’s in his imagination. There is no level three, Clark. Now, get out of here, your parents would kill me if I let anything else happen to you.”

Clark tears up and wraps Lex in a sobbing hug, “Please. Lex, you _can’t_.”

Lex buries his nose in Clark’s hair, savoring Clark’s warmth and the arms wrapped around his waist. He brushes Clark’s hair behind his ear, and whispers, “ _Go_.”

Earl looks at Clark’s crying face, and his scowl softens for a moment, before he gestures to the door with his gun, “Clark.”

Clark clings to Lex for a moment longer and then rips himself away, running towards. Even though he knows Lex will come out alive, it doesn’t stop him from feeling the panic, or the sheer terror that if he made one wrong move, Lex would die.

Outside the SWAT captain listens to his headset, “Sir, the students are coming out. We’ll get them to the paramedics.”

His face hardens further as a voice relays more information to him, “We need to bring the fire doors down. The gas levels are too high. Your son will be sealed inside. I am sorry, sir.”

Lionel’s face remains unchanged as he gives the order, “Do it.”

Pete runs, panting as the fire doors begin to come down when Clark stops running. “Clark?!” He looks back yelling, basking in the sunlight, “Come on man, we gotta go!”

Clark shakes his head, “I can’t. Don’t worry about me, Pete. I can’t leave Lex there, don’t ask me to.”

Pete stares as Clark runs back - towards certain death the red doors closing behind him and his heart twists with jealousy and sadness. As he runs towards the big tent with a scary looking agent, Pete wishes he too could be braver.

Pete races to Lionel Luthor and feels like he’s staring the devil in the face, “You have to open the doors, Sir.” he says, run ragged.

Lionel Luthor stares him down, “I don’t know who you are, but they’re safely locked. They cannot be opened until the gas levels go down.”

“Please,” He begs, sweat teeming down his back, “My friend is still in there.”

Lionel Luthor remains unmoved, eyeing him uncaring of his plight, “So is my son. Someone take this child to the paramedics, he’s impeding the situation.”

Someone grips Pete’s shoulder and consoles him with false platitudes, dragging him away from the only man who would be able to save Clark. Pete remembered why he _hated_ the Luthors.

 

* * *

 

Earl sweats profusely, “We're running out of time. I've done my part. I let them go, now it's time for you to do yours.”

Lex smiles sadly at him, a pitying gaze in his eyes, “Earl, there is no Level 3. It's all in your head.”

Earl clocks Lex in the back of the head with the gun, and Lex stumbles, clinging to the wall, “ _Liar_! I should have never trusted you. You Luthors are all the same,” he spat.

A voice crackles over the intercom, laden with worry “Earl, I found Level 3, they built a wall over the elevator, but it’s still there!”

Earl points the gun to Lex’s head, “Stop playing with me!”

Lex looks at the intercom, dazed, panic breaking his voice, “Clark! Get out of the building, Clark!”

“It’s here, Earl, it's here. Don't you want to see it? I promise. On my Dad.” Clark’s voice soothes from the intercom.

Earl grabs Lex from the back of his shirt, half dragging him around, towards Level three, desperate to see the room that plagued him. “Come on, “ he mutters, “I want you to see the truth.”

In the control room, Clark uses his strength and super speed to turn down the valve unnoticed and ran towards Level three.

“Sir?” The captain waits patiently, as Lionel turns his head away from his phone, “The gas pressure is beginning to drop.”

Lionel stares at him, confusion barely visible, “And how did that happen?”

The captain shakes his head, “I have no idea, sir.”

Lionel continues his phone call, barely paying any mind to the cameras.

 

* * *

 

Earl stares triumphantly at the broken brick wall, “That lying, son of a bitch!” He shakes Lex, “How do you explain that?”

Lex, confused, and muddled, says, “I can’t.”

He drags Lex towards the elevator door, and Lex mumbles, “Two buttons, two levels, Earl. I’m sorry alright?”

Lex grabs the elevator wall and pulls himself up, face blank as Earl pushes the metal detailing and a third button appears. They ride down the elevator in silence, and Earl bursts out of the elevator as it stops, flipping light switches on before running towards the bridge maniacally.

“I told you it was here!” He grinned, and then stopped, clutching his head, “Where is everything?! There used to be a field of corn - with sprayers over all of it! And every night they’d spray green mist over it.” He turned to Lex, growling, “What have you done with it?”

Lex stepped closer to Earl, looking around, at the empty floor, “I don’t know. He lied to me too, Earl. Lionel lied to _both_ of us. I had no idea this was here.”  
  
Earl glares at Lex, closing in on him, angry.

“Earl,” Clark yells, “Let’s go back upstairs and talk about this. Enough of the-”

“No!” Earl screams, “It’s all gone, Clark. How am I going to get better if I don’t know what poisoned me?”

Lex turns to him, frantic and nervous, “I didn’t know about this place, Clark. You have to believe me.” _Please believe me_ , he thinks.

Clark looks at him, a sad look in his eyes, “I believe you, Lex.”

Earl breathes in raggedly, “He’s lying!” Earl begins to shake, “He’s just like his father!” he cries out. Lex looks to Clark helplessly as Earl begins to shake, clinging to the railing, as the bridge shakes with him.

Within moments, the bolts on the bridge become undone, and Lex stares at the floor, hanging above it as gravity’s play toy. Gripping the rails tightly, Lex calls out Clark’s name, like a prayer on his lips. Clark runs to grab him, but the bridge shifts before he can, throwing Lex off. 

Lex holds himself tightly to Earl’s legs, looking at the floor below him, and cursing.

Lex cries out Clark’s name again, as he climbs the tilted bridge, and begins to pull Earl up.

Breathing heavily, Clark winces as his veins bulge from the Kryptonite entrenched in Earl’s body. He holds his breath, dragging them upwards with all the strength he could muster.

Pulling Earl onto the bridge, Clark says, “Get to the elevator, Earl,” before turning his attention to Lex, dangling off the edge of the bridge.

Lex and Clark clasp hands, like a lifeline, and Clark bodily pulls Lex up, away from the edge onto the tilted bridge.

“C’mon Lex,” he gulps in air, “We gotta go.”

As they climb towards the stable parts of the bridge, Earl looks at them with dawning horror, and begins to shake uncontrollably.

Lex and Clark share a look, sprinting towards the elevator, tackling Earl into the elevator, as the bridge collapses to the floor behind them.

Out of breath, Lex wheezes out, a question, “Clark, how did you pull us up?”

Earl laid on the floor, hazy from his tremors zones out of the conversation, and Clark looks at Lex timidly.  
  
_He knows you hide secrets you aren’t ready to tell him...If you wait too long, Clark, he’ll be lost to you again, and this time, by your own hand._ Cassandra’s voice chided him in the past, but no longer. Clark licks his lips, heart racing, and tells the truth.

_“Lex-” he pauses, searching for the words, “Lex, I’m different from other people.” Nerves alight with stress every second Lex sat in silence._

 

* * *

 

 Clark is ferried to the ambulance, but refuses treatment, even when they tell him it’ll be at no cost to him. He gives them a dazed Earl, and the police and paramedics swarm the man as Clark sinks off.

Lex marches up to his father, casually, “You _lied_. You didn’t even try to stop this. If you’d -”

Lionel looks at him, “No I didn’t. Level three never existed, at least not on the blueprints. It’s plausible deniability, Lex. I can’t possibly be there to take care of an accident every time they happen, no matter who is affected by them. Or I wouldn’t have the time to run a company.”

Lex can barely manage to look at his father, “What were you doing down there?”

Lionel barely reacts, “Doesn’t matter. It was a failure, we closed that door and moved on, Lex. You should too.”

Lex contains his snarl, “You almost got me killed for-”

Lionel patronizes him, “You mean you almost got yourself killed. Learn to control your emotions, Lex, or they’ll control you. It was your call, remember?”

Reporters begin to inch closer, calling out the Luthor name, questions pouring from their lips.

Lionel fixes his tousled hair, whispers, “I'll handle this.” and allows the reporters closer.

“Mr. Luthor,” the reporter begins, “What can you tell us about Level 3?”

Lionel smiles warmly at the reporter before becoming serious, “I think you're referring to a redundant storage area at the base of the plant. Mr. Jenkins is a very sick man who desperately needs medical attention-”

Interrupting his father, Lex cuts in saying, “And that is why my father and I have pledged to find Mr. Jenkins the best medical and mental care possible, at no cost to him. He was a LuthorCorp employee and here at LuthorCorp, we always put our employees first.”

Turning to his father, taking his win where he could get one, Lex asks smugly, “Isn't that right, Dad?”  

The reporters keep pelting them with questions, each one louder than the last, “Mr. Luthor, is it true the government is trying to shut you down?

Lionel shakes head, trying to get the reporters under control, “No, no, no. No more questions, please. My son has been through quite an ordeal today.”

The reporters camera’s flash as Lionel pulls Lex into a loose hug, using his worry for Lex as distraction and they close in on one of Lionel’s PR people instead.

Lex feels the smugness wither in his stomach as his father pretends to love him, patting his shoulder, and longingly looks towards Clark surrounded by berating friends distraught by their worry for him.

Clark returns his gaze, and it calms his loneliness. Surrounded by friends, he mouths slowly, “Meet me at home, later, Lex?”

All Lex can do it smile, encased in the arms of his father, his heart fluttering with warmth at Clark’s worry.

 

* * *

 

Hours later after escaping from his father and the press, Lex drives hurried towards the Kent farm, his mind soley set on Clark Kent. The roads and farms pass by in a blur as he steps firmly on the gas.  
  
Sitting in the kitchen, Clark calmed his frantic parents, having long since answered the constantly ringing landline.    
  
“I can’t believe this happened. Oh, Clark, oh sweetheart.” His mother blubbered into the phone, beside herself with worry.  
  
“Don’t worry, son,” his dad’s voice low and harried, said, “We’re on our way back home.”  
  
Clark sat on a kitchen stool, the phone line stretched thin, “B-but what about your anniversary? You can’t just throw that away!”  
  
His father sighed into the phone, “What do you mean we can’t throw it away? You’re our son, Clark, our _only_ child, and we love you with all our hearts. We can always have another anniversary, we can’t have another Clark, son.”  
  
His mother cries into the phone, as Clark sniffles into the receiver, voice warbled,“Thanks, Ma, Dad. I love you both. I’ll be home, waiting for you.”

Lex parks suddenly, racing out of his car, down the dirt path and into the Kent Farm. He wavers by the door, and then grips it tightly, pulling it open.

He stands in the doorway, watching Clark with a careful eye, as he talks with his parents on the phone. Their voices travel to him, filled with worry and love. He tries not to feel jealous - it churns inside him, filling him with _want_ .  
  
Lex watches as Clark’s parents elongate their goodbyes, trying desperately to stretch the call, but Clark puts his foot down, “No. _Dad_ , _Ma._ The phone bill will be too high. Please, I’ll be fine. Lex is coming over in a little bit, so please don’t worry.”

Jonathan and Martha stifle their tears, “Okay. _Okay_ ,” Martha tries to calm herself, “You tell Lex that we love him and we hope he’s alright. Oh my god, I hope he’s alright. Clark is he alright, sweetheart?”

Lex stiffens, heart beating wildly, and he inhales sharply at Martha’s worry.  
  
Clark chokes up as he looks at Lex standing in the doorway, mind flashing back to Lex dangling from the bridge and the terrifying moment he’d been thrown from it. Their gazes lock, and Clark answers, staring at Lex like a starved man, “Yes. _Yes_ . Thank God he is. He’ll be by later, Ma. He’s got to deal with his dad and the press.”  
  
“I’m not jealous of him,” he tries to joke, and Lex’s softens, stepping closer to Clark.  
  
“Okay, son. You take care, now. Tell Lex- tell him- Thank him for me, just until we get home. God knows what would’ve happened if Lex hadn’t given a damn. I’m so glad you’re both alive, son, _so glad_.”

Clark nods, even if he knows they can’t see him, “I will. Bye Ma, Dad.”  
  
Clark stands from the kitchen stool, and hangs the phone up. His eyes tearing up as Lex nears and pulls him into a tight hug.

Unashamedly, Clark sobs into Lex’s shoulder, gripping his waist tightly as Lex holds his shoulders and buries his face into his hair.

“ _Lex_ ,” Clark cries, “Lex. You’re okay.” His hands wander, trying to reassure himself that Lex is alive and okay.  
  
Lex holds Clark in his arms, kissing his head, breathing in the familiar scent of him, trying to forget the terror he felt when the pressure was rising and Clark had decided not to leave the plant.  
  
“Don’t think we’re not talking about what happened and what you said to me in the plant.” Lex’s breath tickles Clark’s ear, “I just need to see you, _hold_ you, Clark. Talking can wait until we’re both calmer.”  
  
Clark nods, the tears still dripping down his cheeks, and there they stay wrapped in each others arms, the world forgotten and unimportant.

 

* * *

 

Clark fills his plate until it is bursting with food, amused by the astonishment on Lex’s face.

Eyebrows raised, Lex asks, “Are you sure you can pack all of that away, Clark?”  
  
A hint of a smile raises the corners of his mouth, “I can fit a lot in my mouth, Lex.”  
  
Mouth full of pasta, Lex, tries not to choke, unsure if Clark had just dropped an innuendo into their dinner conversation. As Clark inhales a chicken breast, alla parmigiana, he swallows and takes a stiff drink of a raspberry lemonade, mesmerized by Clark’s mouth.  
  
“Are you going to finish that, Lex?” Blue eyes plead for food that isn’t theirs.  
  
Lex smirks, “Yes. Please stop staring at my food.”  
  
“ _Lex_ ,” Clark whines, “Emotional duress makes me hungry.”  
  
Cutting into his succulent chicken, Lex hums, “Clark, you’re always hungry.”  
  
Barely chewing the pasta shovelled into his mouth, Clark says dryly, “Well, I’m always under emotional duress.”  
  
Lex’s mouth twitches upwards, but he guards his plate viciously from Clark’s plaintive cries, “No is no, Clark. Besides there’s more chicken on the counter.”  
  
Clark pouts for a moment, before getting up for more food, “But Lex, yours is better!”  
  
Grinning, Lex leans back in his chair, “Others people’s food always is.”  
  
Dinner over and dishes washed, Clark and Lex sit in the living room, huddled together. Resting his head on Lex’s shoulder, an air of anticipation envelops the room, and Clark waits for Lex to break the silence.  
  
“Clark, what you said in the plant...you said you were different from other people. I want to- No,” he pauses, “I _need_ to know that you’re comfortable with this. Are you ready to tell me your secret?”  
  
Clark looks at the couch, scared to look Lex in the eyes, “Is anyone ever ready to tell someone something that might change everything?”  
  
Lex lifts Clark’s head from his shoulder, and strokes his cheekbones, Clark lax in his hands, “Yes or no, Clark? I want you to trust me with this secret, I want you to tell me willingly. I don’t want to tear this from you.”  
  
Clark wavers, feeling Lex’s fingers stroke his face, and he speaks softly,“I’m not sure. It’s not that I don’t trust you, Lex, because I do - with my life and everything else.”  
“But,”Clark looks at Lex through his eyelashes, “This isn’t only my secret to tell. I could ruin everything if I tell you.”  
  
Lex stops stroking Clark’s face, a steely look on his face,“Explain ‘ruining everything’?”  
  
“My Ma, my Dad, our _lives_ here in Smallville. If someone found out the truth, if they found out what I can do, how different I am...I wouldn’t be allowed free.”

Lex has trouble breathing as he some of the pieces of Cassandra’s talk come together. His vision tunnels until Clark is the only thing he sees. Arms wrapped around Clark, he holds him tighter, his curiosity draining away like the color in his face.

_Yet, your father lurked in the shadows waiting to rip your happiness away from you...to rip your heart to pieces. You already had your suspicions that Clark was different...Be careful Lex, his secret would tear him from you if your father knew of it._  
  
Lex wanted to run. Run away from the Kents’ and from Clark because they meant too much to him. Their love for him was leverage against him. His father, his enemies, would always be waiting to rip his heart from him - and it scared him, rightly.  
  
“Lex, are you okay?” Clark’s voice doesn’t break the haze of thoughts, barely managing to register in his mind.

“Lex,” Clark shakes his shoulders gently, “What’s wrong? Are-are you mad because I won’t tell you?”

“No,” he thinks, “No,” he says loudly, “I’m not mad, Clark. We’re all entitled our secrets. I’m just piecing together some advice a good confidant told me.”    
  
Lex looks Clark in the eyes, willing him not to look away, “Clark, save your secrets. I’ll let them lie for now. I’m not strong enough to protect you if something should happen.”  
  
Clark frowns, “Lex-”

Lex continues to talk, cutting Clark off, “I know you trust me, you wouldn’t have told me this much otherwise.” He holds Clark hand, “I have enemies, some I have made, some I will inherit from my father, or some that will come for anything or one I love because I’m a Luthor. Let me stand on my own first, Clark, so that I can assure you that I’m _ready_ to hear and protect your secrets.”

Clark doesn’t stop frowning, his eyebrows furrowing deeper, “If...if you’re sure, Lex, then I’ll wait. I’m sorry that I can’t-”  
  
“Don’t apologize for something you’re not ready to tell. Just tell me the truth when I’m ready, okay?”  
  
Clark tears up again and pulls Lex in for a hug, “Okay.”  
  
A loud bang tears them apart, Clark falling off the couch and onto the floor, “Clark!”

Martha and Jonathan Kent yell, racing into their house, and Lex notices the truck’s headlights on, parked carelessly on the dirt road.  
  
They see Clark in a moment, laying on the floor and they throw themselves at him, peppering him with kisses and hugs.  
Lex shifts on the couch, happy for Clark to be reunited with his parents, and jealous for all the affection he received.  
  
“I’m so glad you’re okay, sweetheart,” Martha kisses Clark’s face so many times, Lex loses count. Jonathan is silent, wrapped around Clark crying silently, he sniffles, and says gruffly, “So happy you got out alive, son.”  
  
“We were so worried, Clark,” Martha says into Clark’s hair. Basking in the warmth of his parents’ love, Clark smiles, “I’m okay, I didn’t get hurt at all, promise.”  
  
They kiss him on either cheek, prodding at him as if they could find something to worry over.  
Martha hiccups from her tears, and sees Lex sitting on their couch, a deer caught in the headlights.  
  
Sobbing freshly, she pulls a stunned Lex Luthor to the floor down with the rest of the Kents’ and hugs him within an inch of his life.  
  
Lex, surprised, does nothing as the Kents’ wrap around him, pulling him to the floor. Martha and Jonathan thank him so profusely and gratefully, he fails to find the words to speak.  
  
“Please,” he tries to find his voice, “I just did what anyone would do, Martha, Jonathan.”  
  
Jonathan shakes his head as he speaks, “No. You did what a hero would do. What a good person would do. You did the one thing your father would never do - you saved someone, no matter the price to yourself. You’re the man who exchanged himself for a room full of hostages not knowing there would be no way for you to come back alive. Thank you, Lex, thank you.”

Martha kisses Lex’s cheeks several times, smiling wobbly at the red flush spreading over them, “Thank you. You saved not only my son, but everyone else’s children as well, Lex. You’re a good man, and I’m glad you’re in our lives.”

Lex’s heart beats loudly, the blood rushing in his ears, as he is surrounded by people who love and appreciate him, _it is a strange feeling_ , he thinks, _being loved_.  
  
Jonathan and Martha hold their family close, squeezing Lex into a shared hug between the four of them, grateful to have all of them safe and alive.


	6. Rogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark tries to smile at his mother as Jonathan kissed his forehead, “Jealousy is a fickle mistress, son, just try to weather it out as much as you can alright? If it gets too much you can always spend some time away.”
> 
> Lex closes his eyes and tries to imagine it was Clark instead.
> 
> Lana sits down heavily onto a nearby chair, “I feel like the end is coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey peeps! Here I come with some of your weekly Clex fix! Did you know that originally I wasn't going to do a Rogue chapter, buuuut then I was re-watching the episode and realized it was when Victoria was introduced and I was like now I HAVE to do it. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy Clark (I still can't get a handle on salty!Clark but dw I'm working on it).
> 
> Also, this will make sense hella later in the chap but didn’t know how to write the scene with Pete at all.  
> I could never get a good grasp on Pete’s character, and I honestly don’t think he’ll get much screen time even in my rewrite/au.  
> He just seems like someone Clark/Chloe/Lana have to pull away from and maybe a major antagonist always campaigning against Lex/The Luthors. I know he was one of Clark’s best friends, but in this AU I really see them drifting because remember what Clark told Cassandra, “I won’t listen to those who try to lead me astray, Cassandra.”  
> Clark would get very fed up with Pete’s immature grudge on Lex because he’s a Luthor, and they would end up drifting and argue quite a bit.
> 
> I still feel bad for sidelining him though :/
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter, and like it enough to leave a comment. I love all the comments you leave and all of you, beloved readers <3

“Jealousy is that pain which a man feels from the apprehension that he is not equally beloved by the person whom he entirely loves.” - Joseph Addison

 

* * *

 

Clark looks at the gaudy breastplate decorated with jewels and gold serpentine S wondering how long Lana would keep staring at him from across the room. He stood shifted his stance, lost in thoughts of the future.

“You know it belonged to Alexander the Great? They say the design symbolizes strength and courage.” Lex smiles at him, walking up from behind the display, and Clark breath hitches with ever present surprise at seeing him alive. He smiles back, eyes soft, “It’s good to know you take after your namesake, Lex. Although I have to say, I don’t think I could wear that into battle. It’s a bit too...shiny.”

Lex grins, “Well darker times called for darker measures, Clark. His opponents thought he was invincible, half the battle is won if your enemy thinks they’re in over their head, Clark.”

Clark’s lips twitch upwards imagining Lex pouring over countless books about Alexander the Great, “I didn’t think you’d be such a history buff.” Trying to smother his smile, Clark teased fondly, “ _Nerd_.”

Lex’s smile is wider now, _real_ , and he scoffs, “I’m not. I’m just interested in people who ruled the world before they were thirty.”

Clark steps away from the display, afraid to lean on it, “I think you’re well-”

Lana finally stops staring, choosing to walk into their conversation, “Don’t worry, Mr. Luthor, you still have a few years to go.” 

  
Smile fading, Lex greets Lana tepidly, mask in place, “Ms. Lang, how is your night going?”  
  
“Having a lot of fun, my Aunt Nell wanted to thank you for inviting us, but she’s still doing some rounds. I hope you don’t mind if I thank her for you?”

“Of course not, Ms. Lang, I’ll be sure to seek her out later.”

Lex looks back to Clark hanging awkwardly out of their conversation, intent on tugging him away, and then Lana smiles at Clark. Possessiveness courses through him, a snarl fighting to take its’ rightful place.  
  
Lex watches Clark freeze as Lana approaches him, “Clark, I was wondering if we could talk about...” Lana trails off, “Personal matters,” she says pointedly looking at Lex, “After all of this of course. Maybe tomorrow?”

He _warned_ her. He wanted her away from Clark, _now._

Clark nods robotically, not really seeing Lana, a ghost in his gaze, “Yeah. Uhm, that’s fine. Where?”  
  
Lana looks pleasantly surprised at Clark’s agreeal, “At the Torch if you don’t mind? Does tomorrow morning sound good?”  
  
“Yeah. Sounds great.” Clark smiles at Lana blankly, “Then, until tomorrow, Clark.” She walks away triumphantly, but withers when she sees the stony look on Lex’s face.  
  
Clark shakes his head as Lex closes in on him, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Are you okay, Clark?” He grips Clark tightly, angry at Lana and worried for Clark.  
  
Looking at Lex, eyes hazy, Clark tries to sound cheerful, “I just need some air. I’m not really used to the whole Gala thing, Lex. Maybe I had too much champagne.”  
  
Lex purses his lips in worried annoyance as Clark keeps more secrets than the Pentagon, and then blinks in surprise at the woman approaching him.  
  
“It’s been quite sometime, Lex.”  
  
Brunette, Beautiful, and Smart, she saunters up to Lex a coy smile on her lips.

“Victoria?”  
  
From the corner of his eye, Lex see Clark still, as he lays eyes on Victoria. “I’m sorry.” She says, looking between them, “Am I interrupting something important?”  
  
Tugging Clark back towards him, Lex introduces them to each other, “Clark Kent, this is Victoria Hardwick, a very old friend.”

Clark inwardly groans as Victoria saunters into Lex’s life, “Hi. A pleasure to meet you.”

They shake hands, as Victoria looks the both of them over, “The pleasure’s all mine.”  
  
Uncomfortably angry at Victoria for stealing most Lex’s attention away, Clark dithers for a few moments, as Lex makes small talk with her, seemingly entranced with her beauty.  
  
“I’ll see you later, Lex.” he mutters before leaving in a huff, face carefully blank, eager to escape the Gala and the jealousy Victoria Hardwick brought out in him.  
  
Lex frowns, champagne in his hand, as Clark leaves, his previous anger and worry climbing higher.  
  
Victoria eyes him coquettishly, “Don’t worry about him, Lex. He must have other troubles on his mind. Why not enjoy the rest of the night, hmm?”  
  
Sighing, Lex tamps down on worry and anger, resolving to give Clark his space.  
  
Flashing Victoria a roguish smile, he purrs, “Want a private tour?”  
  
Eyes fluttering, Victoria grasps his arm tightly to her chest, “I thought you’d never ask.”  
  
Running down the steps of the Gala using superspeed, Clark set down a twisted piece of iron he’d found in one of Metropolis’ back alleys on the street, curved at the perfect angle to pop the buses tires. The world at a standstill, Clark looked at the homeless man on the bench and left the directions for a good shelter willing to get people off their feet, the staff’s number, and a bag of quarters.  
  
Zooming up the stairs he fakes his exit from the Gala, and watched as the bus came around the corner starting to hit cars as the driver clutched at his chest.  
  
The iron popped the tires of the bus, just feet before it could hit the homeless man and dog, and throughout it Clark stood still breathing in the cool Metropolis air, reminiscing the days he would fly around saving people. Sam Phelan walked away from his dirty work, and booked it away from the Gala, uncaring for a runaway bus that’d stopped before it could do any damage.

Clark watched him leave, and let out a breath of relief, happy that Phelan would do no harm to his family this time around. As the people began to flood the steps of the Gala, Clark sped away into the night, not caring to see Victoria or Lex, intent on simmering in his jealousy.

 

* * *

 

Clark lifts the generator easily into the air, as Jonathan walks into the barn, “Morning, son, I see you’re really breaking a sweat.”

Clark grins at the slightly sarcastic tone in his father’s voice, “Just thought I’d get it done before you blow your back out, Dad.”

Jonathan shakes his head in laughter, and Martha walks in with the door open wide, newspaper and coffee on a tray.

“Black with sugar, just the way everyone likes it.” She shoots a look at Clark, and looks downward to the newspaper, questions in her eyes. 

Clark drinks his coffee, still piping hot, and smiles at his Mother, “If I didn’t do something, the homeless guy and his dog would’ve been hit. No one saw me, not even the cameras. I made sure, Ma.”

Jonathan stops smiling and takes a stiff drink of coffee, before speaking, “Are you sure, son?”   

“Absolutely. I used my..speed..to make sure no one was around and looking _before_ I helped.”  
  
Martha shakes her head, smiling fondly, “How?”  
  
Jonathan and Martha stare at Clark in anticipation, as Clark finishes the dregs of his coffee, hanging onto the chain around the generator, “Some twisted up iron I found in an alley. I saw the bus coming around the corner. There was something wrong with the bus driver, so I sped up to see what I could do to help. I didn’t stop it with my body cause someone would’ve seen. Instead, I made sure the iron would blow out the tires and I wouldn’t be anywhere near.”  
  
Martha and Jonathan smile proudly at Clark, “Well, son, I’m glad you used your brain and saved some people without putting yourself at risk.”  
  
Martha kisses his cheek, “I’m proud of you. So, nightowl, how was Metropolis?”  
  
Clark places his mug on the tray, and goes to hang the chain on the wall, blandly saying, “Fine.”

Martha raises an eyebrow, surprised, “Really, sweetheart? A reception at the Metropolis Museum and it was just fine?”

Clark sighs, turning towards his parents, “The museum was amazing, Ma. All the history there was great, it’s just...”

Jonathan clasps Clark’s shoulder, “It’s just what, son? Did something happen?”

Clark blinks away the tears, focusing to keep his face blank, “Lex met someone at the Gala.”

Martha and Jonathan trade worried glances as Clark continues talking, “Apparently she was an _old friend_ , named Victoria Hardwick. The way he looked at her, I felt awful.” Clark looked down dejected, jealousy pangs in his heart.

Martha consoles Clark, holding her son gently, “It’s fine to feel jealous, Clark. You’ll be alright. Maybe she was just an old friend, regardless of how he looked at her, okay?”

Clark tries to smile at his mother as Jonathan kissed his forehead, “Jealousy is a fickle mistress, son, just try to weather it out as much as you can alright? If it gets too much you can always spend some time away.”

Clark sinks into his parents’ embrace, filled with love at their support and understanding. “I’d better get to school. Lana wanted to talk to me about something at the Torch.”  
  
His parents kiss him goodbye, “Thanks for helping with the generator, son.”  
  
Clark grabs his backpack, lying in a corner of the barn, “No problem, Dad. I’ll see you after school.”  
  
Martha and Jonathan stand in the barn, staring after the blur of their son, worried and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 

* * *

 

Lex pours Victoria a glass of champagne, and himself some water, deeming it far too early to start drinking. He looks at her stunning figure as asks, “So, what do you think about Smallville?”

  
Victoria turns away from the stained glass windows, “It reminds me of the village where my grandparents lived in Wales. Very quaint, very boring,” she circles around him whispering in his ear, “And the last place, I ever expected to find Lex Luthor.”  
  
“My father plans to bring me back to Metropolis in a few years-,” Lex starts to say, Victoria smiles at him mockingly, and interrupts, “He’s lying,”  
  
“I know.”  
  
Victoria, looks him in the eyes, serious at playing her part,“You deserve something better.”

Lex raises an eyebrow, “And you’ve crossed the pond to tell me what it is?”

She looks him up and down, grabbing a glass of champagne, “Catching up with an old friend isn’t reason enough?”

Lex grabs his water, and tears himself away from Victoria’s clinging arms, circling around to his desk, “As much as I'd like to flatter myself, the daughters of multinational industrialists don't fly around the world to rekindle old flames. Neither do executive vice presidents.”

Victoria pouts her lips at him, playing coy, “So you’ve heard after all. I figured it would take some time to get down to the middle of nowhere.”

“That you’re working for your father? I keep up,” Lex sits at the windows, “How is Sir Harry?”

“Distant, Inaccessible, and Rich. I believe you know the type. Birds of a feather flock together and all of that.”

“What does he want with me?”

“He, ”Victoria starts, “Understands you may have certain negative feelings towards your father.”

Lex takes a sip of his water, seeing the beginnings of the web, “Sir Harry was always good at seeing the obvious.”

Victoria walks towards him, “He was hoping those feelings might work to our mutual advantage. He'd like you to reconsider your position with LuthorCorp.”

Lex looks at Victoria, “So he sent you here as an incentive.”

“I've missed you, Lex.” She simpers, angling for enough coyness to drag him in.  
  
Lex looks at Victoria’s lips, “I’m _touched_. Do you have a proposal?”

“Yes,” she whispers, instead of leaning into his lips, Victoria reaches for his pants, fingers playing with the belt hoops, "First, I think I'd like something else."

As she starts to kneel Lex closes his eyes and imagines it was Clark instead.

 

* * *

 

Clark leans into Chloe’s computer, reading the title, “Another scathing editorial? Isn’t this a little out there?”  
  
Chloe looks at him smugly, happy to be spending time with him, “Is there any other kind? Besides the people deserve to know the truth, Clark. Smallville is _weird_.”

Lana walks into the Torch, and sees him sitting with Chloe, “Clark, I’m glad you showed up. Uhm, before we talk, can I ask what happened to you last night? You just kind of disappeared on us.” 

Clark smiles at Lana, willing himself not to remember her stinging future presence, “I wasn't feeling well. Honestly, I think I was a little homesick, after a couple o hours. I guess I’m as much of a city slicker as I thought I’d be.”  
  
Lana and Chloe burst into giggles and Chloe remarks sarcastically, “You can take the boy off the farm but not the farm out of the boy.”  
  
They lose themselves in happiness for a moment before becoming serious. “So,” Clark says, “Did you want to talk about whatever is going on, with Chloe here, Lana?”  
  
Chloe and Lana turn to Clark and nod. “We do,” Lana hesitates for a moment too long and Chloe begins speaking instead. “Pete couldn’t make it, but he said he wants to talk to you separately anyways. You know, guy talk, bro moments. Moving on,” Chloe laughs, “We wanted to ask if we did something wrong?”  
  
Clark blinks, confused, “What do you mean ‘did something wrong’?”  
  
Chloe bites her lip and looks to Lana, “Uhm,” Lana twists her hair, and tries to look Clark in the eyes, “I know we haven’t really been close, Clark, but I do consider you a friend. I know Chloe and Pete consider you their best friends as well. It’s just-”

“You’re stopped hanging out with us,” Chloe blurts out, “We miss you, Clark, and I know it’s not just me, but it feels like you’ve been pulling away. Lex Luthor comes to town and it’s like none of us matter anymore.”

Clark takes a shaky breath, frowning, “I-I don’t know what to say, or how to start. You guys are my friends, and I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. It’s not that I don’t like you or that-”  
  
Chloe crosses her arms a look of defiance in her eyes, “It’s because we’re not Lex Luthor, right? What’s so great about him, Clark, that you practically ignore us if we’re not at school?”  
  
Clark gapes, surprised at how early their dissatisfaction with him had come around, “It’s not that! It’s just, Lex is lonely, Chloe. No one here in Smallville likes him, in fact most people hate him because he’s a Luthor. No one deserves that Chloe, especially not Lex. I mean, how would you feel if someone hated you because your father did something and didn’t get to know you at all?”  
  
Chloe and Lana stand still, startled at Clark’s adamant defense of Lex Luthor. Chloe scoffs, “He’s lonely? Well he could just fly in some friends from Metropolis! He doesn’t have to hog you all to himself, Clark! We love you too, and we miss you.”  
  
Clark winces, as Chloe rants at him, tears streaming down her face. Lana tries to console her, and he tries to remember that Chloe is just a teenager. A jealous teenager who thinks he best friend is being ripped away from her by a stranger.  
  
Clark sighs, and goes up to Chloe and Lana enveloping them in an enormous hug. “I’m sorry. I know you guys don’t like him. I admit that’s why I wasn’t sure of how to talk about this to you guys. I know I’ve been distant but it’s not because any of you have done anything wrong. I just wish you guys could give him a chance, to see him as Lex without the Luthor filter. I just wasn't sure you guys would like to hang out with him.”

Chloe sniffles into his shoulder, and Lana looks up at Clark, “He warned me away from you, Clark. Well, me and Whitney. He said I didn’t seem like a bad person but that accidents could happen if I hung out with the wrong crowd.”  
  
Clark almost rears back in shock, arms around the two girls, “Lex said that? I can’t really believe it.”  
  
“Well, believe it,” Lana said tersely, stepping away from his hug.  
  
Clark shook his head, holding a silent Chloe, “I don’t think you’re lying, Lana. I just can’t believe he did that. Can I know when he warned you away from me?”

Lana’s shoulders dropped, “The day after the dance. He came up to me when I finished riding.”  
  
Clark hummed, rubbing a soothing circle on Chloe’s shoulder, “I didn’t expect him to be so protective. Lex...” Clark trailed off, “He was the one who untied me from the stake when Whitney and his gang turned me into this years’ Scarecrow. He was so worried about me, said that even the Romans saved being tied up at a stake for hours, for special occasions. He wanted me to go to the hospital, but you know my folks can’t afford that, and they would’ve been worried if I hadn’t come home.”

Lana nods, a smile gradually returning to her face, “So he doesn’t hate me, because I swear, Clark, I didn’t know Whitney would do something like that.”

Clark shook his head, “No, Lana. I doubt he does. He was just being an overprotective bullhead. Why? Did he do something else?”

Lana smiled nervously at Clark, thinking back to the stony look on the Luthors’ face when she’d talked to Clark last night. “No, nothing, I’m just relieved.”

Chloe, finished crying, wipes her eyes, a curious look in her eyes, “So, does this mean, you want us to try and hang out with Lex Luthor?”

Clark laughs, “Yeah. That would be really nice. I think he could use some more friends, honestly.”  
  
Chloe looks at Clark, eyes narrowed, “I guess it’s worth a try, but only this once - and you have to try to talk Pete into it too.”  
  
Clark beams at her, and Lana, kissing them both on the cheek, “I will! I’ve got to go. Home-Ec, is gonna start in like five minutes, see you later, I’ll call!”

Clark runs out of the Torch’s office, leaving Chloe and Lana alone.

Lana sits down heavily onto a nearby chair, “I feel like the end is coming.”

Chloe raises her eyebrows at Lana, “Cheer up. It’s Lex Luthor, hopefully he has something fun to do in that mansion of his.”

Lana sighs deeply, “You don’t get it. I really think he hates me. You should’ve seen the look he gave me when I went up to talk with Clark last night at the Gala. It was like I was everything he ever hated morphed into one being.”

Chloe walks over to Lana and drapes herself over her back, “And why didn’t you tell Clark this?”

“He already looked so worried, Chloe. I know Clark really likes Lex and I guess he thinks he’s a great friend and I don’t want to be the reason they argue.”

Chloe nods, “Reasonable enough, although I think Pete wouldn't mind giving them a reason to not talk for a while. It wouldn’t hurt to give Lex Luthor a chance, right?”

Lana grabs Chloe’s hand, smiling up at her, “Right. Even if it goes wrong, at least we know it wasn’t anything we did that’s pulling Clark away.”

Chloe hums, looking at her scathing article, “Yeah, it’s just Lex Luthor himself, Clark hogging extraordinaire.”

Lana starts laughing and then abruptly stops as Principal Kwan barges into the Torch’s Editorial Room. He waves a copy of the Torch around like a mad man, “Is this your idea of a joke? Concerned parents have been calling all morning, Ms. Sullivan.”

Chloe stops leaning on Lana’s back, facing Principal Kwan with a bemused smile, “Well what’ve you been telling them?”

“What the EPA and other environmental groups said years ago. The meteor rocks are harmless.”

Chloe looked Principal Kwan, righteousness in her eyes, “People have a right to know about the strange things that happen in this town and draw their own conclusions from the evidence gathered or available.”

Principal Kwan shakes his head, “The Torch is a school paper. It's not your own personal tabloid.”

Chloe puts her hands on her hips, “Are you censoring me?”

Pointing the article in her direction, Principal Kwan steamrolls any chance of an argument, “I'm requiring you to do your job, which is report on relevant school events. Which is to write about the students, school related events, and clubs! Not to stir up panic in Smallville’s populace with crackpot theories! You are relieved of your duties, Ms. Sullivan. The Torch is suspended until I can appoint a new editor.” Principal Kwan leaves, the only indicator of his anger, a newspaper thrown onto a desk as he left.

Frazzled and defeated, Chloe looks at Lana, “Okay, what just happened? Was- Was I just fired?!”

Lana goes to hug, Chloe, now sitting on the floor, vacantly staring into air, “Let me talk to Kwan. I’m su-”

Chloe cries into a copy of the incriminating Torch, “Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but I don’t think you can change anything, Lana.”

Lana looks at a newly sobbing Chloe, and pets her hair, “We won’t know until we try. Let me give it a shot, Chloe, the worst thing he can do is say no.”

 

* * *

 

Clark shifts the telescope, turning the dial up towards where Krypton used to be, happy to have a peaceful moment to himself. He settles down onto the floor and inhales the smell of hay, wheat, and _Lex_.

Heart thumping, Clark pretends to be enamored with the stars, sharply aware of Lex’s presence in the loft, silently watching him.

Clark shifts to make himself comfortable and hums Drops of Jupiter, pretending to stare at the stars while Lex stares at him.

He waits, idly turning the dial on the Telescope every so often, to show him the solar system. Waiting, and waiting for Lex to break his silence - but he doesn’t. He just keeps on watching Clark, studying him as he watches the night sky.

Lex voice cuts the silence, and Clark’s head swivels to the man watching him with avid eyes, “Marcus Aurelius Seneca once said, Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them. You seem like you’re rather entranced.”

He smiles up at Lex, a rare somber mood overtaking him before long, “I don’t think I can run with the stars, but it’s a nice thought. It’s good to see you, Lex.”  
  
“Sorry if I surprised you, Clark, but there’s nowhere to really knock.”

Clark shakes his head, a small smile on his face, “It’s okay. Thanks, again, for last night, it was a blast.”

Lex looks through the telescope, Jupiter looking down at him, and turns away. He sits next to Clark, on the dusty barn floor in Hugo Boss, and Louis Vuitton and sighs, “Was it, Clark? Ms. Lang seemed rather worried that you disappeared last night after getting some fresh air. Has she done anything to make you upset?”

Clark’s smile dies quickly, “No! We’re great friends, honestly, Lex.” Clark looks up to the stars, mind racing with an excuse to turn away from any ‘you have a crush on Lana,’ talks. He doesn’t see Lex’s eyes narrow, a frown taking the smile away from his face. Doesn’t see Lex’s nails dig into his palm as his knuckles turn white.

Clark rubs his neck, lying to Lex’s face, a bitter taste on his tongue, “I just thought you and Victoria could use some space, Lex. You seemed rather taken with her. I didn’t want to intrude while you two were... _catching up_.” He tries not to sound bitter, but the way Lex looks at him, concerned, Clark knows he failed.

“You’re still my friend, Clark. No matter if Victoria is an old one and we were _catching up_ as you say. Are you sure that’s it? You looked like you saw a ghost.”

Clark rolls his eyes, inwardly wincing at his physical slip, “Maybe it was all the champagne, Lex, I told you I wasn’t used to Galas. I was nervous, I can be clumsy you know and with all those priceless things around I felt like I was in a glass house.”

Lex smiles at him, but a glint in his eyes tells Clark he doesn’t believe a word of whatever came out of his mouth.

“So, what did you and Ms. Lang talk about, Clark?”

Clark yawns as Lex starts to question him, “Nothing much. They just want to hang out a bit more with me. I figure since you’re with Victoria right now, and Ma says new couples need their space, I would just hang around Lana and them.”

“Oh,” is all Lex says, a nasty sneer twisting his mouth, and a possessive anger dancing in his eyes.

Turned away, towards the telescope, Clark tries not to notice how tightly Lex has grabbed his hand.  
  
Holding Clark’s hand, Lex tries to fight the urge to hold Clark in his arms and squeeze him tight. To hold him away from all of the other people who would take his attention and his love.

Clark looks back at Lex, pretending to wince, “Ouch, Lex, a bit of an iron grip there. Are you sure you’re not the one with a problem?”

Wide eyed, Lex immediately stops squeezing, but Clark intertwined their fingers together.

“I hope you don’t mind if I’m honest, Lex.” Clark scooches closer to Lex, and lays his head on his lap, feeling a hand touching his head. “Not at all, Clark.”

Blushing faintly, Clark says, “I’m trying to convince them to hang out with you too.”

Lex laughter shakes his head, “I don’t need that, Clark. I’m fine.”

Clark pouts, staring up at Lex, “Yes, you do. You need more than one family in Smallville who likes you.”

Lex kisses Clark’s head, their hearts thundering together in harmony, “I have you, Clark. You’re more than enough. The best I could ever ask for.”

Clark flushing deeper, smiles up at Lex, and Lex forgets to how to _think_ , breath catching in his throat, as those blue eyes stare up at him from his lap.

“You’re so good to me, Lex Luthor.”

Desperately gasping for air, Lex drowns, as Clark speaks, plush lips speaking to him in a way no one ever had.

He plays with Clark’s hair fiercer, the urge to grab and kiss Clark almost overwhelming in its intensity and wishes he could distract himself with Victoria.  

Victoria that didn’t have Clark’s blue eyes.

That didn’t have Clark’s soft pink lips that begged him to _fuck_ that beautiful mouth.

Victoria that didn’t have tan, sun kissed skin from hours of working on a farm.

Victoria who honest to God, didn’t have perfectly shaped muscles that put Adonis to shame.

He held Clark, on the brink of losing his sanity and kissing him, when his phone rang and broke their peaceful silence.  

Reaching into his pocket, Victoria’s voice on the other side of the phone snapped him back into reality, and Lex knew he had to leave.

“I’ve got to go, Clark. I’m rather late for dinner.” He almost caresses those plush lips, before standing up but shakes his head.

He tries not to falter at the sad look Clark gives him as he lifts his head and they stand together. Hugging Clark goodbye, it isn’t long before Lex is in his Porsche driving down an empty road. 

Pulling to the side Lex turns off his headlights, and parks, hidden by the numerous bushes.

Unzipping his pants, Lex groans as he hardens to thoughts of Clark looking up at him with begging eyes, and pouty lips.    
  
He imagines bending Clark over and fucking him over his office desk, legs spread wide and taut, Clark begging for release.

Imagines himself in that loft, Clark in his lap, bouncing up and down as they sat on that small dingy arm chair, quiet and bursting with excitement at the thought of the Kents’ walking in on them.

Of how perfect Clark’s mouth would look parted with his cock, his voice muffled and _moaning_ , lips stretched wide and wanting.

He whimpers imagining opening up Clark with his fingers, and then his _tongue,_ until Clark went crazy, begging to be properly fucked. Wishes that instead of his hand, he’d be fucking that gorgeous tight ass. Pounding him so hard that Clark would never forget their first time together.

Lex grunted as he enclosed his cock with a tightening hand, craving to claim Clark in every way he could.

Fist tight around his cock with a furious pace, Lex jerked as he came onto the steering wheel, breathing heavily and dreaming of the day he would finally get to make love to Clark Kent.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Chloe walks dimly into the Torch’s office, and Clark shuts off his computer, running to hug her, “Hey, are you okay?”

“As good as I can be, I guess.” Clark rubs her back, as Chloe tries not to burst into tears, “Have you heard anything about Lana’s meeting with Kwan?”

“No, but I’m sure it’ll work out, Chloe."

Chloe rubs at her puffy eyes, and nods taking comfort in Clark’s newfound soothing presence.

They separate from their hug as Lana walks into the room, a nervous look on her face.

“So, what did Kwan say?” Clark turns to face, Lana a worried look on his face, despite knowing what’ll happen.

Looking nervously at Chloe, Lana says, “Well, it’s interesting,” Eager to resume her job, Chloe stares at Lana, “Well, bottom line it. When can we send out the next issue?”

Lana smiles, tense, “Day after tomorrow.” 

Chloe nods, nervously beaming, “Cool.”

“Except, Kwan made me the new editor.”

Chloe freezes, “Okay, rewind. What was the last part?”

Lana’s eyes flicker to Clark, and then back to Chloe, scared of Chloe’s reaction,“Kwan said if I had that much passion, I should be the one in charge.”

Biting her lip, Chloe turns away furiously from Lana, “I don’t believe this!”

Lana winces at Chloe’s fury, “Chloe, it was the only way he’d reopen the Torch!”

“So the captain of the cheerleading team wasn’t enough?! Maybe the editor of a newspaper-”

“Chloe,” Clark cuts in, “At least hear Lana out.”

Chloe snaps her mouth shut, tears beginning to well in her eyes, “Go on.”

“I didn’t want to take your place, Chloe.” Lana’s lips quivered, “I just figured you’d ghost write until we could get your reinstated.”

Chloe nodded, thinking, “Okay, so, I would work for you?”  
  
Lana gave a tepid smile, “The paper would still be yours Chloe.”

Clark smiled and gently spoke, “See, it’s not a bad idea, right, Chloe?”

Tearing up upon hearing Clark’s words, Chloe shot him a fierce glare, “Sure, Clark, of course Lana has the best ideas! What was I thinking! Of course you’d take her side!”  
  
Mouth agape, Clark faltered, “No! I’m not taking sides, Chloe, I’m just saying it’s a good idea until Kwan calms down and-”

“Chloe, please,” Lana begged, “This isn’t what you think.”

In tears, Chloe shouts, “You know the best part, Lana? I thought you were my _friend_. Instead you just took it all away.” 

Wiping her tears away, Chloe furiously stomped away from the room as Lana hung her head, shaking with remorse.  
  
Standing still, Clark, sighed as both of his friends fought one another and nothing he did could fix it. _Girls_ , Clark griped.

 

* * *

 

Lex pours Victoria a drink, and thinks back to his Porsche, “I see you’ve had a chance to read my father's’ proposal.”  
  
He smirks, “I didn’t have to.”

Victoria throws her hair to a side, “I see you’ve added mind-reading to your many abilities, then.”

He looks at Victoria, smug, “I know why you're here, Victoria. Sir Harry wants to take over LuthorCorp and he needs my shares to do it.”

He takes a small drink, voice going soft, “Do you think if you take over LuthorCorp Daddy will finally give you the respect you deserve? Here’s a life lesson, He won't.”

Victoria tenses, smile slipping from her face, “So what are you suggesting?”

“You played on how much I would hate my father and now I’ll play on how much you hate yours. Why take on company when you can take two?”

Victoria smirks back at him, a greedy glint in her eyes, “You know they'd probably kill us.”

Lex raises his glass to hers, “Probably. But that's what makes life interesting.”

Their glasses clink, and they chat amicably until Victoria notices how distracted Lex is, “Who are you so distracted by? I know you aren’t thinking about the plan, we’ve talked plenty about it.”

Lex stop sipping, and looks at Victoria, “No one, and nothing you need to worry about Victoria.”

“Oh, but I would love to know who has Lex Luthor wrapped around their finger to the point of distraction, especially when you’re with me.” She raises an eyebrow, eyes filled with curiosity.

“I’d rather not say, Victoria. They won’t be affecting our partnership in anyway.”

Victoria pouts sensually, fluttering her eyes at him, “Very well. Keep your secrets, it’ll be sometime until we can pull off what we want to do anyways.”

“However,” she whispers in his ear, “I’m positive that I could be that precious thing that drives you to distraction instead, Lex.”

Lex sneers as they lean into kiss, tongue’s exploring with vigor, Victoria Hardwick would _never_ measure up the person the Clark Kent was, in body or mind, of that he was certain.

 

* * *

 

Lana struggles with the printer, hoping it doesn’t sense her fear. She turns around quickly as the door opens and Clark walks inside the Torch’s Editing room.  
  
“Clark,” she smiles timidly, “What are you doing here? I thought everyone would steer clear after what happened yesterday.”

Clark shuffles his feet, hands in his pocket, “The Torch is a bit of a handful on most days, and that’s with Chlo-” Clark coughs, “The editor taking care of most things. I figured you could use some help, Lana.”

Lana smiles at him, “Thanks, Clark. To be honest, I feel like I’m in way over my head.”

“All I wanted,” she says, shrinking in on herself, “Was to help Chloe. But I ended up making everything worse. She must think I’m the world’s worst friend.”  
  
Clark sighs and moves to pat Lana on the back, “Don’t worry too much, Lana. Chloe will come around eventually. She’s just not great with being uprooted all of a sudden. She’ll realize that it isn’t you that needs to take all the blame.”

Lana smiles wanly at him, “Yeah, I hope. I didn’t mean to take her place. I know she _hates_ that. I thought that even if I was the new editor, she would be happy to ghost write until Kwan’s anger blew over. I was so _stupid_.”

Lana wipes at her eyes, turning away from Clark, and begins to shuffle miscellaneous papers.

“You can’t blame yourself for the way others react, Lana. Chloe took it badly, and none of that falls on you. So, cheer up, she’ll start thinking about it eventually.”

Lana gives him a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, “Yeah.”

“So,” Clark rocks on his heels, “What can I do to help?”

Lana blinks at him and then looks down to the papers she’s collecting. She drops them on the desk with a loud thump, and turns away pointing him to a pinboard filled with ideas.

“We can start here.” Lana nods sure of herself, “Well, you can. I have some independent research I need to do. That is if you don’t mind, Clark. I don’t want to leav-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Clark waves his hand, and shoos Lana away, “It’s a good way to spend my time. If you happen to see Pete, can you send him my way?”

Lana laughs, really laughs, eyes crinkling with happiness, “Sure, although he might be busy with practice. Thanks, Clark, for trying to cheer me up. I know we haven’t been the closest, but _thanks_.”

Lana smiles at him, and gathers numerous folders in her arms before she runs out of the Torch’s room, and down the hallways of Smallville High.

Clark shakes his head, fond and strangely protective of the innocent teenagers his friends currently were. He turns to the pinboard, and begins to order the ideas to Chloe’s taste, confident that Lana would make up to Chloe like she had last time.

 

* * *

 

Lex browsed his magazine, phone twirling in his hand, waiting for Clark to show up at The Beanery. The smell of cheap coffee invaded his nostrils, and Lex breathed it in knowing it was the best quality Smallville had to offer. Suffice to say he was _disappointed_. Taking a quick sip of his coffee, Lex pursed his lips, as the burnt taste washed over his tongue. The urge to start a proper coffee shop in Smallville grew stronger with every sip.

The bell chiming high, rattles as Clark opens the door, and slips in, squeezing between all of the people coming and going. He places his order with Jess, one of the ever revolving baristas, and makes his way towards Lex’s bowed head. 

Nearing Lex, Clark greets him happily, brushing off the occasionally hostile stares he gets for treating Lex so friendly.

Lex turns to the side, smiling, rising to give him a hug. “Clark, didn’t think you’d make it, sounded like you were busy.”

Clark wrapped his arms around Lex, breathing in the scent of an expensive cologne a moment too long, eyes hooded with _want_. Clark shakes himself of his desires before taking a seat across from Lex, “I was. Had a talk with Pete, it didn’t go so well. I don’t know why I thought I could change his mind.”

Leaning back, coffee in hand, Lex used the mug to hide his scowl from Clark, “Pete? Do I know him?”

Clark blinked, “I guess you guys have never met. The Pete I was talking about was Pete Ross, he’s a good friend, has been ever since I was little.”

“Oh,” Lex says non-committedly, taking a sip of his coffee, “And why did the talk not pan out well?”

Clark smiles as a waitress brings him his coffee, quietly thanks her, and then turns back to Lex, “Pete...he has a real grudge against anything Luthor. Ever since your dad brought out their creamed corn factory. He thinks you’re bad news.”  
  
Lex grips his mug tightly, a sad look in his eyes, “Does he now? And do you believe him, Clark, that I’m bad news?”

“Of course not!” Clark yells, then blushes as patrons pointedly look at him, “Of course not, Lex.” he repeats, voice softer, “He thinks you’re a carbon copy of your dad. And I know that isn’t true. You’re more human than he could ever be. Pete just can’t see through his family grudge. The sins of the father are not the sins of the son, right?”

Lex smiles at Clark, his heart filling with warmth. “Right. If only the rest of Smallville could be as good as you, Clark.”  
  
Clark stammers, cheeks burning red, “If anyone actually looked past the Luthor they’d definitely see you aren’t like your dad, Lex.”

Clark gulps down his coffee, trying to avoid Lex’s ardent gaze, when he sees brunette curls bouncing up and down, curiously opening the door to The Beanery.

Lex looks up to follow Clark’s gaze, false smile plastered quickly on his face as Victoria Hardwick walks into the coffee shop and all but into their conversation.

“Lex,” she shouts over the noise, looking over the crowd of coffee deprived persons, and waits for the space to settle.

Lex turns back to Clark, an apologetic look in his eyes, “Sorry about her, Clark. I didn’t think she’d follow me here.”

Crowd settling, Victoria manages to catch the tail end of his sentence, smiling widely, she all but sits in Lex’s lap, “Hello, again, Clark. Sorry to interrupt, but I must admit my curiosity got the best of me.”

“Nice to see you again, too, Victoria.” He finishes his coffee, quickly, the liquid cool to the touch. “Don’t worry about it, Lex,” Clark gives him an easy smile, his eyes tracking something out on the street, “I have to go anyways, thanks for meeting up with me, by the way, I know you were busy.” He puts a couple dollar bills under his coffee mug and briskly walks towards the exit.  
  
Lex frowns and turns his head as Clark leaves, trying to yell for Clark throughout all the noise in the Beanery. He frowns watching through the glass as Clark greets Lana Lang with a smile, files hazardously held in her arms, Clark reaching to help.

Trying to melt Lana Lang into a puddle with his eyes, he watches as they walk away together, and the loneliness in him _stings_ . Looking away, he almost sneers as Victoria whispers in his ear, “Oh, is that her then? A bit on the young side, but she’ll be rather pretty when she grows up. Why not have me instead? At least I’m _legal_.”

Lex shifts her away from his ear, faking a suggestive smile to Victoria, and then takes a swig of his cold coffee, anger and worry clawing at his gut. The sight of Clark smiling at Lana burned into his retina, he masks his fury. Staring at Victoria idly gazing the crowd, he drank his coffee in silence, the puzzle of why Clark was avoiding him starting to come together.

 

* * *

 

Principal Kwan bursts through the doors of the Torch’s editing office for the second time in a week, the headline sending most of the staff into a tizzy that morning.

“Ms. Lang! What is this?”

Lana stands firmly, uncowed by his reproaching tone, “A news story, Principal Kwan.”

Kwan points to the damning headline, shaking the newspaper in his hand, “This is unacceptable, Ms. Lang!”

“Why?” Lana asks, “It covers all of your criteria. It deals with a student, a school club, and there are no mutants or crackpot theories in sight.”

Kwan sighs, tired and questions her, “Did you do this because you thought I'd reinstate Miss Sullivan?”

Lana clenches her jaw, and tries not to nod her head, “I did this because it's the right thing to do. Chloe was born for this job, and it was unfair to take it away from her without a unbias review.”

Kwan shakes his head, “I do admire her passion for writing and for elevating the Torch, Ms. Lang, but her reporting lacks accuracy.”

Silently opening the door to the Torch’s room, Chloe blurts out, “I can work on that.”

Turning around, Kwan sighs, but the stress in his shoulders leaves, “If you want your job back Ms. Sullivan, don’t print what you can’t prove. If you can back it up then have at it. Do we have a deal?”

Chloe almost envelops him in a hug, before deciding to cheer in place, “Yeah. Thanks Principal Kwan, I won’t let you down.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Ms. Lang. That’s one friend you have there Ms. Sullivan.” With that, Kwan takes his leave, a relieved smile on his face.

Lana smiles widely at Chloe, “Congratulations, Chloe, you deserve it.”

Chloe fidgets, a grateful look in her eyes, “Thanks, Lana. Uh... you know, I'm sorry I flipped out on you the other day. I just...the paper's kind of my identity and it's really makes me feel like I belong here in Smallville. Coming from Metropolis I’m still kind of an outsider around these parts.”

Lana smiles at Chloe, questions on her lips, “You thought I was trying to cut you out of making a mark on Smallville...and your place in it?

Chloe bites her lip, looking at the floor, “Nobody ever said I was rational. Sorry.”

Lana shakes her head, “I want to be friends with you, Chloe. Best friends, I don’t want your place in Smallville, cause I’d like to make my own someday too. I’m sorry if I pushed you over the edge and made you feel like-.”

Chloe tears up, and waves her hands frantically towards Lana, “Oh no. Don't, it was my fault. I overreacted, cause I’m insecure and well I’m _me_. I don’t take things lying down, you know?”

Lana looks at Chloe, scared that she’d ruined their friendship, “Are you sure? Because I’m not sure even I’d forgive me.”

Wiping her tears away, Chloe tugged at Lana’s arm and drew her into a hug, “Already forgiven, the moment I saw your article this morning. You really showed Kwan didn’t you?”

Lana laughs into Chloe’s shoulder, “I guess I did. I’m really glad to have you back, Chloe.”

The separate, knocking shoulders together, beaming at each other, “Glad to be back. Now, that that’s out of the way,” Chloe says spinning around in a circle, “Let's see what you've messed up since I've been gone,” she teases.

Lana bursts into peals of laughter, and points at the printer, “It can sense my fear, Chloe. I don’t get how Clark gets it to work.”

Chloe points to Lana and wags her finger, “Rule number one when dealing with a printer, Don’t

feel afraid. You are their Meat Bag Overlord, and they must concede to your needs...eventually.”

 

* * *

 

Breathing in the crisp air, and soaking in the warm sun, Clark walked home in the peace of nature. Clark, tired from his monotonous day at school, looked up to the sky aching to fly and feel the clouds disperse in his wake. Throwing his head back and whistling a old lullaby he wished he could have some fun with Lex, but Victoria plagued the mansion.

Thinking about Victoria and Lex’s relationship, he was glad he made himself scarce. He doubted Lex would take kindly to him ripping her apart for kissing and playing coy with Lex. Shrugging his troubles away, Clark reminded himself she would be gone soon enough, after Jeff scared her off.

Seeing home on the horizon, Clark booked it and gently opened the door, dropping his backpack into the wicker basket by the door.

“How was school, sweetheart?” His mother scrubbed at the counters, a flour dusted apron wrapped around her.

“Fine. Boring, like always, Ma. I think I might use my allowance to get some more books.”

Martha stops scrubbing, throwing the sponge into the sink, before kissing him on the cheek, “Any more books up in the loft and we’ll have to turn the whole barn into Smallville’s second library,” she teases, “Or have your father build a second bookshelf.”

Clark laughs, “I think the second bookshelf is more feasible, Ma. Where’s Dad?”

“Helping one of the neighbors out with some mechanical trouble. John says he doesn’t know what went wrong with his tractor.” She takes a seat at the table, Clark across from her, “How is everything going with Lex?”

Clark winces, and bites his lip, “As well as it can be? I’m taking Dad’s advice, really. It’s hard to watch him be like _that_ with Victoria, so might as well listen to dad and spend some time away.”

Martha rubs his shoulder soothingly, “I know this is hard on you, Clark, and I’m sorry I can’t do anything to help with this Victoria woman.”

Clark smiles at his mother, “Don’t worry about it, Ma. Lex and I are friends even if Victoria’s clutching him like a lifeline, and unless he’s going to marry her, that means she’ll have to leave eventually.”

Martha tries to hide her smile with her hands and shakes her head fondly, “Well, we can all hope, Sweetheart. Don’t forget to get your homework done, dinner will be ready in two hours.”

Clark stares as his mother walks back to the kitchen, glowing with happiness at her subtle disapproval of Victoria. Grabbing his backpack from the basket, he flipped open an assignment, speeding through it all. Lost in thoughts, Clark reminded himself to tell his parents how much he loved them.

Idly playing with his pen, Clark’s smile grew, he couldn’t wait for Jeff to scare Victoria off - and to take care of Amy’s obsession with Lex. All he had to do was wait.

 


	7. Shimmer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So, Chloe, meet any cute guys lately?"
> 
> The resulting spit take was incredible, Lana gaping in shock as Chloe spewed coffee all over the table and Clark.
> 
> Smiling at Clark, Lex takes one and inhales it’s scent, lowering his face to hide eyes that trail up and down Clark, devouring the vision he makes. 
> 
> "Looks like you have some pretty stiff competition, Clark," Chloe teases.
> 
> Lex strokes his chin, then leans on his knees looking at Clark, “I know why you’ve been avoiding me, Clark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, new chapter! This is like a week old guys. I'm trying to get ahead of the updating curve so I have more time to edit and think about the future plot...we'll see how it goes! Also you guys, I really love Cassandra. She's like the ultimate old lady I aspire to be, cryptic and not giving a fuck.
> 
> Don't have much to say except I hope you all enjoy the chapter and love it enough to leave a comment!  
> Thanks for sticking around every week!!!

“Everyone hears only what he understands.”- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

 

* * *

 

Clark walks with Lana in out in the field during gym class turning his head as she asks, "So, why haven't you been hanging around Lex Luthor, lately?"

She blinks as the words tumble out of her mouth before sputtering, "You don't have to answer that. I'm sorry, Clark."

Clark shakes his head, trying to see the Lana _here_ than the one that _was_ , "I don't mind. I'm giving Lex some space. He's with an ‘old friend’," Clark says miming quotation marks, "Her name’s Victoria Hardwick, and I don't want to intrude on their time together."

"You know," Clark gestures, "Adult stuff."

Lana turns red, and nods stiffly, "Yeah. I get it."

“So, how’d you get out of gym class, Lana?”

“I’m spared from the sweats because I’m organizing the blood drive,” Lana shows off her clipboard, a caduceus and red cross on the paperwork.

“I'm sorry,” Clark scratches his jaw, “Aren't you the girl who skinned her knee in seventh grade and passed out when she saw the blood?”

Lana laughed, hiding her face in the clipboard, “I was hoping I’d live that down. But I’d like to think I’ve gotten better at dealing with blood.”

“Ah, yes, I remember, Smallville’s Annual Murderathon, where we small town folk draw a lottery-”

Shoving Clark, Lana tries to calm her laughter, “Calm down, Shirley Jackson. We might be called Smallville but we’re not that small.”

Clark laughs harder, “I’ve gotta go hit the showers, Lana, might be late if I don’t. See you later?”

Lana shakes her head at Clark, smiling brighter than the sun, “See you later, thanks for the laugh, Clark.”

 

* * *

 

Clark sighs as he steps out of the shower, water dripping sinfully down his pectorals.

He wraps the towel firmly around his waist, subtly eying Pete avoiding him like the plague.

Heading to his locker, Clark sits firmly on the bench as Jeff passes by him and feels the effects of Kryptonite weaken his body.

He listens, stretching, as Jeff clobbers Troy with a dumbbell, and rushes to the next row of lockers.

“Troy, are you okay?”

The dumbbell clatters to the ground heavily, and Troy remains curled up in a ball.

“It attacked me. It was like a ghost,” he mumbled, disbelieving.

Shaking his head, Clark reached over to help him up, glad that Jeff had the decency not to kill him outright.

“You’ll be alright, Troy. Let me get dressed and we’ll head down to the nurses office, alright?”

Troy sat on the bench, and nodded at Clark, staring into the steam, dazed.

 

* * *

 

“So you didn’t see anything?”

Clark frowned, as Jess handed him his coffee, “By the time I got around the corner, Troy was already on the floor. You can ask Pete if you don’t believe me.”

Chloe hummed, “What about the voice he heard?”

Clark raised his eyebrows at her, “You don’t think the locker room is haunted do you? Please don’t let it be a female ghost.”

Chloe snorts as the sit down at a table, “Not unless it’s the ghosts of dearly departed jockstraps looking for revenge, Clark.”

“Well, it’s nice to know your standards have rais-”

Chloe dug her knuckles into Clark’s side, “Ow! Chloe!” He pretended to wince.

“I always have standards, Clark,  _ always _ ,” she whispered into her coffee cup.

Clark paused, mug warming his lips as he saw Lana and Whitney arguing. With pointed eyes he gestured to Chloe silently.

Chloe turned around and watched them argue, a sympathetic look in her eyes, "Well that doesn't look pretty."

Suddenly Lana marched away from Whitney and Chloe panicked, "Damn. Pretend we weren't watching. Quick, talk about something!"

Clark sighed, as Lana walked closer to their table, a devious smirk on his face.

Waiting until Chloe 'casually' took a sip of coffee he asked, "So, Chloe, meet any cute guys lately?"

The resulting spit take was incredible, Lana gaping in shock as Chloe spewed coffee all over the table and Clark.

"Clark!" Chloe complained.

Clark struggled to hide his laughter, "What? You wanted to talk, so I talked."

Lana hovered by the table an incredulous smile on her face, "Do I want to know what's going on?"

"No!" Chloe shrieked, "We're fine. It's just Clark being a gremlin."

"Hi Lana. It's me, Clark, king of the gremlins. Remember not to feed me after midnight."

"I'll be sure to lock you up in a cage too." Lana joked.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want you eating all of Smallville. Humans included, knowing how messed up Smallville is." Chloe ribbed.

"So, how it's going, Lana?" Clark leaned on his elbows, head tilted up to look her in the eyes.

"Not so bad, anymore." Lana pondered, "It really brightens up your day when you see your friends act like gremlins. You see, I didn't know I was friends with royalty."

Chloe snickered to Clark's face, "Well, let's cheer you up some more! We could offer a pint for the blood drive tomorrow?"

Lana grinned, "That would be absolutely wonderful, Chloe. Would 9:45 be alright with you?"

"It's perfect," Chloe flexed, earning Clark's whistles.

Rolling her eyes fondly at Chloe's actions, Lana turned to Clark, "And what time should I expect you, Clark?"

Like a deer in the headlights, Clark stopped, "I'm not that great with needles, Lana. They kind of spook me. If I see one, if I know it's there, I get real nervous."

"Clark," Chloe gaped, "You're 6'4 and 165 pounds of pure Grade A Kansas beef. How do needles scare you?"

"Well,” Clark grumbled, “Call me a horse in a hospital, fears don't have to be logical to make you afraid, Chloe. I was hoping I could just help by making some homemade cookies, instead?" 

Clark pleaded to Lana with a nervous look on his face.

Lana smiled, nodding along to his words, writing quickly on her clipboard,"That'd be great, Clark. Everyone is going to love the cookies. You're real courageous letting people know you hate needles. I've got go, see you guys later!"

"Bye, Lana." Chloe waved goodbye and then narrowed her eyes back at Clark, "Okay, nice recovery but I'm pretty sure you have an ulterior motive! The word on the street was you weren't into Lana anymore."

Clark took a sip of his coffee, "And I'm not. I just figure Lex could use some space-"

Chloe wagged her eyebrows, leaning into the table, "Trouble in paradise, Clark? Sources say a brunette has shacked up with Lex Luthor, and they're alone together in that big drafty mansion. Would you care to make an off the record comment?"

Clark leaning back into his seat, said, "Well, your sources would be right. Lex started seeing this one lady, Victoria Harwick. I figure they could use some time alone with me not hanging around. And well, I could spend some time with you guys too."

"Oh, Clark, how cute," Chloe teased, "Are you the spurned mistress, now?"

Clark sputtered, "Mistress? Why do I have to be the Mistress? And why am I spurned?"

"Glad to see you're not denying it, women like men confident in their masculinity. Spurned mistresses often turn to bitterness once they’ve been rejected."

"I am not turning to the bitter side, Chloe. Also, are you telling me you wouldn't love being Lex Luthor's mistress?"

"Who wouldn't want to be?" Chloe smirked tauntingly at him.

"Forget the diamond earrings. News and inside sources instead, right Chloe?" Clark said dryly.

Chloe chugged her drink down, "You really know the way into my journalistic heart, don't you Clark?"

Chloe shook her head, "Anyways, what’s the 101 on this Victoria Hardwick? Apparently everyone was rather shocked once she came down from her fancy castle to Smallville's very own Beanery."

"I don't know her 101," Clark groaned, "Lex introduced her to me the night of the Metropolis Gala. She seemed distant, not mean, but like that sort of distant you feel when you walk up to a rich person, you know that kind of aura they give off? To be honest I've barely seen her since. Ma says new couples need their time before they stop making moon eyes at each other. Why do you want to know?"

Chloe raised her hand to order a coffee to go, "Smallville's rumor mill must be appeased, Clark. And your mom is like super mom, she really knows what's up."

"She really is, huh?"

"Anyhow, I've got to go. The Torch won't write itself, gremlin king." Chloe grabbed her bag from the back of her seat, before putting down some dollar bills on the table.

"See you, Chloe. Don't be surprised if you can't find me later. I'll be around, somewhere."

"No doubt causing trouble." Chloe gave him a peace sign and ran out of the Beanery, new coffee in hand, Clark sat back in a coffee stained shirt and smiled as she left.

 

* * *

 

Shooting a ball across the pool table, Lex looks up as Victoria baits her father into believing her lies. “Yes, Daddy, we're on schedule. Lex is playing hard to get, but I'm sure I can make him come around. Bye, Daddy.”

Victoria leans on the pool table, and Lex closes in on her, “He wants to know if you're selling this castle after we sell out your father.”

Shooting another ball, Lex asks, “Why? Does he want to ship it back over to Scotland?”

Victoria smiles at him, and he leans into kiss her, wishing he could taste Clark on her lips.

Enraptured in his vision of Clark, he doesn’t stop kissing her until someone clears their throat.

Separating from Victoria, he sees Amy at the door, a tray of drinks in her hands.

“Amy,” he says, as she walks towards him, an amber liquid in the cups, “Where’s your mom?”

Amy smiles brightly, “Uh, flu, I think. She asked me to cover for the afternoon.”

His eyes flicker at her muttering, “Have you met Victoria?”

Amy’s smile dies down, “No, not officially.”

He caresses Victoria’s arm, “She’s going to be staying with us.”

Victoria tries to smile at Amy, but gasps with shock as Amy petulantly tips the tray over and drops the drinks over her pants.

“I am so sorry,” Amy apologizes, her squatting hiding her growing smile, “I’ll go get something to clean this up.”

She picks up the shattered glasses and soaked tray into her hands and heads towards the door.

Victoria scowls as Amy leaves, talking down to Lex, “She spilled that on purpose.”

Lex sighs, and looks to her,“It was a mistake, right Amy?”

Amy barely manages to look back and mask her smile, “Sure.”

“She’s clearly got a thing for you, Lex.” Victoria grumbles, looking at her ruined pants.

Arching his eyebrow, Lex muses, “I never took you for the jealous type. Her parents are a fixture, I brought them from Metropolis.”

“Then send them back,” Victoria pouts viciously at him.

“I won’t send them back over a little mistake, Victoria.” He tries not to chide her, “If I did that every time, I wouldn’t have anyone to help with the Manor.”

 

* * *

 

“What’s this, Clark?” Martha looks over a pamphlet, turning it around to read the inscription.

“Blood drive at school. Lana’s running it this year.”

Martha begins to set the table, as Clark clears his finished homework from the table.

“Clark, son, you know you can’t donate.” Jonathan looks him firmly, voice stiff.

Looking up at his dad, Clark says, “I know, Dad. I told her I have an illogical fear of needles and I get real nervous around them.”

Jonathan softens up as Clark explains his reasoning, “Alright, son. I don’t want you going anywhere near any needles or testing equipment, are we clear?”

“Crystal, Dad.”

“How’s it going with Lex, sweetheart?” Martha asks, and Jonathan hums, “You’re right. I haven’t seen him around as much, son, is he that distracted by Victoria?”

Clark blushes, and avoids looking them in the eyes, “I don’t really know. I haven’t talked to him much, since we met at the Beanery, and talked for a bit about two weeks ago.”

“Oh, Clark,” Martha soothes, “I know you like him more than a friend, but you can’t let a woman get in between your friendship. Yes, it will hurt seeing him with other people, but it doesn’t mean you should stop being his friend and letting him know you’re there, _even_ if your presence is scarce.”

Jonathan nods along to Martha’s words, “I know I told you to spend some time away, Clark, if you couldn’t weather it long, but not to the detriment of your friendship. Tell him how you’re feeling, plan out some time together, the girls may come and go, but friendship can last a lifetime if you keep it up, son.”

Clark sniffles at his parents advice, and draws them both in for a bear hug, “Thanks, Ma, Dad. I’ll be sure to talk to him when I drop by later with the deliveries.”

“You’d better, son.” Jonathan says, ruffling his hair. Grabbing dinner, Martha adds, “Tell him we’d like him around more too.”

Dusk settling in, the Kents enjoy dinner, Clark relaxing in the comfort of his home, worries and jealousy forgotten.

 

* * *

 

Lifting up the couch cushions, Lex looks tirelessly for his watch, it’s absence from his wrist twisting his heart. He kneels on the floor, and stops for a moment, hearing the door creak as it opens.

Clark walks into the room quietly, a long crate of tulips in his arms, “Looking for something, Lex?”

Lex turns around and looks up from the ground, as Clark looks down at him in concern.

“My watch,” He answers, taking a seat on the couch.

“The tulips look beautiful,” Smiling at Clark, he takes one and inhales it’s scent, lowering his face to hide eyes that trail up and down Clark, devouring the vision Clark makes.

Something in Lex relaxes, setting his on Clark, watching his clothed muscles put the flowers down, a hunger in him sparks to life.

“You cleaned us out of tulips. My Ma said if you want anymore you’d have to call Holland before they send them to the Canadians.”

Lex laughs faintly at Martha’s sense of humor, “They’re Victoria’s favorite, Clark.”

Abruptly the flowers are knocked off the table, and a zing down Lex’s back makes him stand straighter. “What was that?” he wonders, trading confused glances with Clark.

Clark leans down to pick the tulips up, and Lex watches as the jeans tighten over his ass giving Lex a tantalizing view. “So,” Clark starts, jealousy seeping through the cracks, “You and Victoria are getting pretty close.”   

Lex blinks, noting the way a bitter tone drags down Clark’s smile, “You seem...surprised, Clark.”

Fidgeting with the tulips, Clark looks at the wall behind Lex instead of his eyes, “She just doesn’t seem like your type.”

Lex squats beside Clark, smiling teasingly, “And what would you know about my type, Clark?”

His smile widens as Clark sputters, stumbling forward into his arms, wide eyed and off kilter.

Splayed on his back, with Clark in between his legs and on his chest, Lex laughs at their situation.  

Clark goes redder than a fire hydrant, but doesn’t move from Lex’s chest, trying not to embarrass himself further, “N-Nothing Lex. I just thought you wouldn’t go for someone who looks like she could be a Bond girl or villain.”

Arms wrapped around Clark’s waist, Lex rests his head on the floor and laughs until his lungs sting.

“I guess I do have a type after all. How very perceptive of you to see it, Clark. But relationships aren’t always about love, sometimes they’re about mutual goals.”

On top of Lex, Clark nods his head, trying desperately not to pop a tent at the firm muscle he feels beneath his hands. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business-”

Lex grabs his hands and looks him in the eye, “It’s okay. You’re my friend, Clark. And that means I want your opinion on the people I get to _know_. Even if you happen to think they’re Bond girls. I admire your standards, Clark, but not everyone can have them.”

Crawling off of Lex, Clark stands and offers a hand Lex takes quickly, “It’s not that Bond girls are bad, Lex, cause some of them even helped 007, but they can be a bit...ambiguous. I just-” In a small voice he says, “I don’t want you to get hurt, Lex.”

Tightening his grasp on Clark’s hand, Lex smiles, “I won’t. I know what I’m getting into Clark.”

“Also,” Clark hesitates, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I know it’s probably wrong, but I’m sorry I got-”

Lex steps closer to Clark, “You’re sorry you got?”

Taking a deep breath, Clark looks Lex in the eyes, “I’m sorry I got jealous of you and Victoria. Not like I’m jealous of your dating her,  but- we don’t spend as much time together and I realized it was my fault, for avoiding you.”

Lex pulls him into a tight hug, a satisfied smirk on his lips, “I’m glad you told me, Clark. I admit I was worried at your avoidance, but we’ll work it out. We can make time for each other, without Victoria, alright?”

Clark smiles at him, eyes brighter than he’d seen at the Beanery, all those weeks ago, “Dating Protocol, then?”

Lex stands there, confused, “Dating Protocol?”

“Uhm,” Clark rubs the back of his neck, “It’s a thing I thought would be cool. Like maybe if you’re seeing someone or I’m seeing someone we just have this thing between us that we pre-plan, like where we meet up and when, if we need some time away.”

Looking at Lex’s blank stare, Clark shakes his head, “Forget it, it was stu-”

“It’s fine. More than fine. It’s a good idea, Clark. One we’ll talk more on later.”

Lex’s fingers graze his empty wrist, and he turns his back, looking for the watch with more vigor than before.

“Don’t you have another watch, Lex?”

Looking below the side table, Lex says, “I’ve got hundreds, but this one is special. My mother gave it to me right before she died.”

“Oh,” Clark says, not bothering with his X-Ray vision, but pretending to look all the same.

“I don’t see it.”

“What are you, “ Lex teases, “part bloodhound?”

Clark laughs, “No, but I live on a farm. I’m pretty good at finding needles in haystacks. How about I go check the library?”

Clark barges in on Victoria once again, sending her a spiteful look, just as the pounding begins from upstairs. Running towards the hallway, a salacious thought creeps into his head, _God I hope Lex will pound me into the mattress that hard one day._ Clark blushes to his roots, but shakes his head and follows Lex up the stairs to a door glowing white.

“What’s going on?” Victoria’s voice is curious, but fearful, and Lex bides her to stay, “Wait here.”

Clark following half a step behind, Lex approaches the door, and turns the knob.

A flash of white light envelops their sight, and Clark steadies Lex as he’s thrown back by Jeff leaving the room.

Walking into the room, Lex turns on the lights, astonished at the violently written messages on the walls, telling Victoria to leave. He turns in circles taking in the trashed room and trades a shocked look with Clark.

 

* * *

 

Chloe carefully pins a picture of the messages onto the Wall of Weird. Standing back rubbing her chin, Chloe says, “It really doesn’t leave much room for interpretation. There’s so little, yet so much mystique in their words.”

Clark shuffles around folders, “It was pretty weird. When we got close the door was shaking, and when it blew open there was this bright light and Lex said he felt something brush past him.”

Looking bemusedly at Clark, Chloe leans on her desk, “Maybe a poltergeist has finally settled into the halls of Luthor Manor. Looks like you have some pretty _stiff_ competition for Lex’s friendship, Clark.”

Clark’s lips twitch upward, and he starts to laugh, “Really, Chloe? You just had to make that joke didn’t you?”

Chloe picks imaginary lint off of her shoulders, pretending to be distracted from his laughter.

“The police say it was vandals. They don’t know many ghosts who write in spray paint and own a black light.”

Chloe rolls her eyes, “Police, they never believe in the impossible. Why doesn’t anyone listen to the words of Sherlock Holmes anymore? Anyways, are you really going to have your mom make homemade cookies for the blood drive?”

Clark grins at Chloe’s question, “No. I’m going to be making homemade cookies for the blood drive. So I don’t have to go anywhere _near_ a needle.” Clark fakes his shivers, and Chloe gives him a hug goodbye.

“Well, better get baking, Boy Wonder, your mom’s cookies won’t make themselves. Thanks for the help, I’ll see if my sources can’t help me out.”

As he leaves, Clark bursts into laughter at Chloe’s nickname for him, a yearning to see Bruce and his family taking root, drowning out all the pain and agony he felt at their deaths.

 

* * *

 

Lex sits on the couch, Victoria in his embrace as his father unceremoniously bursts into the room and instantly his day is ruined. Smiling at his father, Lionel approaches him face blank, “Lex, you have disappointed me.”

“Hi, Dad. It’s good to see you too.” Lex grins at the anger hidden in his father’s eyes.

Lionel looks at Victoria like one would a bug fluttering around their head, “Would you mind telling me what she's doing here?

Lex relaxes his posture further,  “Right now? Working on my neck.” He looks down to Victoria, and kisses her neck, voice husky, “But knowing her, I think that's just a start.”

Lionel laughs like it hurts to even contemplate happiness, “Could this be a ploy to get my attention? Well done, it worked. Now get rid of it.”

Lex rolls his eyes at his melodramatic father, “I know this is gonna come as a shock, but not everything in my life revolves around you.”

Lionel reaches to grab the decanter of brandy, nodding condescendingly, “Oh, I understand. So you're simply... being swindled. Would you leave us Miss Hardwick? My son and I are going to have a little chat about loyalty.”

Victoria presses a kiss to Lex’s lips and stands up,“I'll run us a bath. Don’t be long.”

Lex pretends to look at her amorously knowing it would aggravate his father, “I'll be there shortly.”

Victoria smiles at Lionel in passing, “I'll send Sir Harry your regards.”

“Swell,” Lionel says trying not to grimace at the woman.

Lex stage whispers to his father, “This is hardly business.”

Lionel walks towards him looking for blood in the water, “Generations of Luthors’ would beg to differ. It's always business, and _always_ war. Are you so obstinate you don’t see she was sent to distract you? Sir Harry has been nipping away at LuthorCorp for months!”

Lex gets up from the couch, walking closer to his father, “LuthorCorp is _your_ company. I'm just an expendable employee.”

“You,” Lex sharpens his words like a knife, “Made abundantly clear when you exiled me to this charming cow town.”

Lionel’s face goes stony, “Empires are not brought down by outside forces. They are destroyed by weak links from within! Smallville is your test. You’re _failing_. By God's’ sake, what have I told you about your emotions and letting them control you?”

Lex hides the hurt behind a careless facade, “Thanks for the update, dad, but I know exactly what I'm doing.”

“No,” Lionel practically snarls, “You don't, and you’re more of a fool than I ever thought you could be. She is playing the only card she's got and you are falling for it hook, line, and sinker.”

Lex stares his father in the eyes, bidding him to make a blunder, “My personal life is my business.”

Lionel looks at his son, trying to sound fatherly, “Not when it affects _my_ company. Then it's my business. If you sell out your family, then you will truly be alone in the world, and who do you think would care for you, a disgraced Luthor?”

Lex freezes at the tone, and steps away from his father, heart hammering in his chest a million miles a minute, a cutting loneliness in him.

He shakes his head and thinks back to the way the Kents’ hugged him, the way Clark hugged him, unwilling to let go when Earl held a gun to his head.

As his father leaves in a fit of disappointment, Lex drowns in the warmth that the Kent family gave him, savoring the memories, and suffocating the crippling sense of loneliness.

He thinks back to his father’s words, _who do you think would care for you, a disgraced Luthor_?

He knows the answer and smiles to himself in the silence in his office, _The Kents' would_.

 

* * *

 

Clark closes the oven door, and turns the oven off, the scent of chocolate raspberry cookies saturating the air.

“Clark, sweetheart, what cookies have you finished?” Martha sits at the kitchen table, carefully going over the bills for the month, mouth watering with anticipation.

“Chocolate raspberry, Ma.” Clark forgoes the oven mitts, grabbing the tray with his bare hands, “Then some sugar-free peanut butter crackles, and snicker-doodles. Maybe I’ll make other flavors, I dunno, it depends on whether or not I’ll have the time to make another run to the store after I visit Lana and Cassandra.”

Watching his mother with bemusement, Clark says, “Only one, Ma. I gotta get them packed up for the blood drive. Lana’s gonna go crazy once she sees what I made.”

Martha snatches a cookie, biting into a soft gooey center, and smiles proudly at her son.

“Good job, sweetheart. They’re fantastic, but one question,” She arches her brow at him, curiosity in her eyes, “Where did you get the money for all of this? We don’t have the budget to make all these cookies for the blood drive.”

Clark starts placing the cookies in disposable containers, making sure that there are rows of every flavor in each box. “My allowance.”

“ _Clark_ ,” Martha chides, “You don’t have to-”

Clark shrugs his shoulders at her look, “I don’t have anything better to spend it on besides books, Ma. At least this way it benefits somebody, and hey, maybe it’ll get the word out that I can bake too. It doesn’t seem like a bad side job, if I’m honest.” 

“Also, I made a test batch for Lex, for when I drop by tomorrow. Almond cookies, raspberry jelly, and white chocolate. Do you think he’ll like it?”

Martha teases him, “And where are my almond, raspberry jelly, white chocolate cookies? I’m pretty jealous, if I do say so myself.” Popping the rest of the chocolate cookie in her mouth, Martha mindlessly hums a small country tune.

Clark fondly rolls his eyes at his mother’s teasing, “Don’t worry Ma, I’ll leave a couple for you and Dad. I’m trying to find out Lex’s favorite dessert.”

“Well, good luck with that, sweetheart, and tell Lex to drop by. I’ll make him a batch of muffins.”

Clark finishes organizing the cookies into their containers, shoving them into a cardboard box, before wrapping Lex’s cookies tightly and setting them in the fridge to chill overnight.

“See you later, Ma. I’ll be back before curfew.” Clark waves goodbye, “Remember to leave some for dad.”

Martha’s eyes crinkle at him, “I seem to have developed temporary hearing loss, what did you say, sweetheart?”  
  
Clark chuckles at his mom, and uses his super speed to get to Lana’s house quickly. Knocking on the door, Clark grins as Nell opens the door, questions in her eyes, “Clark Kent, what a surprise. Lana isn’t here right now, but what can I help you with?”

He shifts the box in his hands, “Well, I brought over the cookies for the blood drive. I told Lana I would make some because I get real nervous around needles and I couldn’t really help her with the planning.”

Nell looks him up and down, unconvinced that he would be any sort of nervous around needles, “If you say so. Just put it down on the table, over there, I’ll tell Lana you dropped by?”

Clark nods, walking towards the table and placing the heavy box down with a thump, “Yes, please. Thank you. I have to get going now, but if Lana needs more or anything like that tell her I’m available, please.” He walks back out, Nell following behind, she rests her hands on her hips, “Thank you for all your help, Clark. I’m sure Lana appreciates it.”

Clark smiles at her awkwardness, no doubt unsure about how to act around her former boyfriend’s son.

“See you later Ms. Potter, I’ve gotta get going,” Clark takes his time walking down the gravel road, feeling her eyes on his back until she goes inside and shuts the door. As soon as Nell is out of site, he runs to the Smallville Retirement Center, eager to see Cassandra and ask after her health.

Cassandra turns to the doorway, the familiar sound of Clark’s boots against the floor, "How are you doing, Cassandra?”

Smiling at him, she cranes her head, and pats the spot next to her, "I am perfectly fine, Clark, feeling healthier than ever. I wouldn't deprive you of my presence in your life, after all."

Clark beams at her, sitting, and tenderly hugs her from the side, "I would miss you. I have."

"I know, Clark." She pats his hands gently, and shifts her book from her lap next to his leg.

She looks him uncannily in the eyes, as he turns to stare at her, "Do not let jealousy become you, Clark. Push him away and Lex will worry as he always has. You are not mad at him, but jealous of Victoria, of what will become of him and Helen, but he can't tell the difference."

Clark grumbles under his breath but nods at Cassandra's words. He traces the cover of her book, "Want me to read?"

She cracks a smile at him, resting her head on his arm, "Of course, dear. I love the voices you make."

"Only the best for you Cassandra," he teases, flipping to the bookmarked page, reading braille out loud.

Clark sits for a moment, adjusting his vocal chords, thinking about Alfred and his lilting tones. A second passes and from his lips a perfect British accent falls.

Sitting at her side, Clark passes the afternoon happily reading to Cassandra, bringing the story to life in a way her sight never could, voices drawing her into a world of mystique and drama.

 

* * *

 

With a pep in his step, having woken up late, Clark walks to the Beanery, readying himself for a _chat_ with Amy.

Entering the Beanery, and choosing a seat, he pretends to be absorbed in a book, as Amy stares at him debating on when to interrupt his reading. He looks up and smiles at her, as she awkwardly greets him and sits at his table.

“Everything okay, Amy?”

“Yeah,” she shifts in her seat, “Just, you know, all the weirdness at the mansion. Everything was fine until Victoria got there,” she spits, but controls herself and smiles at him, “Anyway, well, you’re Lex’s friend, right? What do you think of her?”

Clark pretends to think over Amy’s words, tapping on the cover of his book, “I haven’t talked to her much beyond greetings. Sorry, but I don’t know her too much. Besides, I don’t think Lex would like anyone sticking their head into his relationships, even if they’re his _friend_.”

Amy almost sneers at him, but keeps her mask of friendliness on, “Well, I think I know why she’s sticking around. I saw her in Lex’s bedroom going through his things.”

Clark blinks at her words, letting them sink in for the first time, and wants to throttle her until her head falls of her shoulders, “And,” he growls, “What were you doing in Lex’s bedroom?”

He tries to calm himself down, but only gets angrier as he imagines Amy running her hands down Lex’s sheets or clothes, over his _personal_ belongings.

Amy gulps at his tone and blazing glare, “Helping my mom,” she says avoiding his gaze.

He stares her down, “And Victoria didn’t see you?”

“No,” she answers, a mania creeping into her eyes. “You see, Lex was the only one who ever treated me like I was _there_ . The only one who treated me like _I_ mattered.” She says dreamily, as if Lex existed purely to love her.

Clark could feel the bile trying to climb up his throat.

 

* * *

 

Lex shuts his laptop, smiling as Clark opens the door to his study, a small package in his hands.

“Clark, what brings you over so late? I promised Victoria a dinner, so we can’t really do movie night today. Perhaps, you’re doing a little ghost hunting?” he tries to joke.

Clark shakes his head, a worried look in his eyes, “No. I came here drop off some cookies and to talk to you about Victoria... Where is she?”

Lex stands and goes to hug Clark, “Thanks for the cookies, Clark. Tell your mom, thank you as well. Victoria is taking a bath. Why, is there a problem?”

Clark bites at his lips, eyes glimmering with sympathy, “Last night, when I was in here, I saw her. I... don't really know how to say this...”

Lex wraps him in a hug, and whispers in his ear,“She was going through the files on my computer?”

Clark goes still, pulling back to look him in the eyes, “Yeah, how'd you know?”

Lex smirks at him and takes the cookies from his hands, “Very little happens in this house that I don’t know about, Clark.”

Scrunching his eyebrows, Clark frowns at Lex, “You don't seem upset at her.”

Lex puts the cookies on his desk, “We're playing chess, Clark. It's a game. Like I said we've known each other a long time. It’s what friends do.”

Clark blinks at him, trailing behind him, “But if you don't love her, and she goes behind your back for some files, why do you want to keep her around? Isn’t that just giving her a bigger opportunity to let her hurt you?”

Lex smiles at Clark and the conflicted emotions splayed across his face, “It's a complicated situation and game we’re playing. But thanks for the heads up. It’s nice to know...that you’re looking out for me.”

Clark blushes, returning the smile, “That's what friends are for. I guess you also noticed that Amy's got an obsession with you? Honestly it’s a little... _creepy_.” He shivers, remembering the look in her eyes, as she spoke of Lex, unwilling to let him politely leave the conversation.

Lex leans on his desk,  “It's a teenage crush, nothing more. I do know when someone pays a certain type of attention to me, Clark. And besides, sometimes it pays to be a little _obsessed_ , you learn things about yourself you never knew. Don’t tell me you’ve never been obsessed over something?”

Clark rolls his eyes at Lex’s tone, fighting back the memories of a blood stained past. It wasn’t the time for them, it’s not like he could tell Lex he was obsessed with _him_.

Clark shifts, putting his hands into empty pockets, “So how goes looking for the special watch?”

Lex tsks, “Not going at all. I swear I’ve turned this place upside down and _nothing_.” His tone turns dispirited and longing.

Rubbing at his empty wrist, Lex watches the way Clark oozes worry, “The watch I lost, my mom gave it to me when she knew it was getting close. She found a Napoleon franc from 1806 and had it made into the face. She was sick for a long time.”

Clark sat at the chair facing Lex’s desk, “Why Napoleon?” he asked for the second time.

Lex took the seat across from him, “You ever see the painting of Napoleon's coronation by David?”  

Clark shook his head, unwilling to speak.

“Napoleon's mother couldn't make it to his coronation. But when he commissioned it, Napoleon told David to paint her in as if she were there, right in the center. Even though she couldn't be there physically, he brought her into his life through sheer force of will, there to share in his greatness.”

Clark ducked his head as he felt the tears gather in his eyes and fall down his cheeks,“That's a good story. Your mom really loved you, Lex. She- she really wanted you to carry a piece of her, and-” Voice wavering, the words caught in his throat, Clark was unsure if he was trying to apologize for his tears or show his admiration for Lillian Luthor’s love for Lex.

Lex kneeled to see Clark wiping away his tears, “It's a good watch, and she was a great mother, Clark.” He pats Clark’s cheeks, looking at his tear tracks and watery eyes, drowning in Clark’s empathy.

“Thank you for your tears, Clark, but I’ve done my crying. Nothing can bring her back and I acknowledge that. Life isn’t life if you spend it chasing after ghosts.”

Clark sniffles, nodding along to his words, “Sorry, Lex, I didn’t mean to cry. I’d better get going, it’s pretty late. I guess I don’t have to talk to Victoria after all.”

Standing together, Lex pulls Clark into a hug, burying his nose into his soft locks. Wrapped in Clark’s arms, Lex breathes in the faint smell of roses and cookies, a smile sneaking onto his face.

“See you later, Clark.”

On his way out of the door, Clark pauses, “Also, Ma and Dad want you to drop by if you can sometime, they miss your visits. Ma even said she’d make you your own batch of muffins.”

Lex lets out a small laugh, “Then I guess I’ll have to drop by...I’ve missed them too, Clark.”

Clark nods at him and firmly closes the door just moments before the vase upstairs crashed to the floor.

Racing up the stairs and bursting into the bathroom, he scoops Victoria from the bathtub barely managing to throw a robe on her before he’s thrown back into the mirror.

Shaking his head he watches Jeff leave the room, cutting himself on the mirror. Collecting the glass fragment and shoving it into his jacket, Clark runs down the stairs to Lex’s study bursting through the doors.

“Lex,” he yells, “Something happened to Victoria.”

 

* * *

 

Holding out the broken piece of glass Clark remarked, “It's definitely blood.”

Pouting Chloe looked at it sharply, “Well it doesn't exactly fit the Casper paradigm. Which means that whoever attacked you and Victoria in the bathroom was invisible?”

Grabbing the mirror shard, Chloe rubs her fingers against green goo, “What’s this green stuff?” She pulls her fingers away and smells them, shrugging, “It smells like roses.”

Rearing back in shock, Chloe looks at Clark, “Uh... Clark? What’s wrong with my fingers?”

“What did you do, Chloe?” Clark grabbed her hand, observing it in the light.

“I touched it. Okay, I am weirded out. What is this alien goo?”

Clark tapped his lips with his finger, “I doubt it, but if you rubbed that all over you'd be-”

Chloe wiped her fingers with a tissue, and smirked at Clark, “Naked?”

Rolling his eyes Clark said, “You'd be invisible.”

They hurried towards the exit, “Okay so what's our next move? Should we call the police?” Chloe asked.

Clark raised his eyebrows at her, “And report an invisible person? We need a viable suspect first, evidence, remember?”

Chloe frowned, “Well, who's got a problem with Victoria Hardwick? She’s barely been in Smallville a couple of weeks.”

Clark looked at Chloe, eyes sparking with false concern, “Amy Palmer.”

Blinking, Chloe, hummed, “Her parents are on the mansion's house staff, right?”

Clark dug a deeper grave for Amy, “Amy said she saw Victoria snooping around Lex's bedroom. She said Victoria didn't see her.”

Chloe’s eyes widened in surprise, “No wonder. Creepy. Wait. Didn't Amy give blood?”

Clark shrugged, “I don’t know. You could ask Lana, tell her it’s urgent business. Maybe try to explain?”

Chloe nodded, “I’ll see what I can do. Starting with finding Lana. Once I get the blood type off of the glass, I’ll check it against Amy’s too.”

Clark sighed, remembering to meet Lex at the Beanery, “ _Great._ Call me later?”

Chloe saluted him and ran off, yelling at the top of her lungs, “You’re on my speed dial.”

 

* * *

 

Throwing his newspaper on the table, Lex smiles as Clark enters the Beanery and sits across from him.

Settling down comfortably, Clark asks, “How’s Victoria doing, Lex?”

"She's resting up in Metropolis for a few days until I can get some answers.” Lex scrunches his eyebrows, “I wanted to talk to you about Victoria, if you don’t mind?”

Clark arches an eyebrow, “Sure, I don’t mind, although I don’t know her that well?”

Lex strokes his chin, then leans on his knees looking at Clark, “I know why you’ve been avoiding me, Clark.”

He watches as Clark freezes completely, gaping like a fish out of water, “Y-You do?”

He smiles at Clark comfortably, “When I was your age, if I’d had a friend as close as we were, I wouldn’t want anyone to come between us either. I understand teenagers can be possessive, I was one myself not too long ago. And you’re going through changes, your emotions are all over the place-”

Clark turns an astonishing shade of red, and starts choking on his spit, “No. I am not-”

Lex reaches over and grabs Clark’s hand, squeezing it firmly, “It’s okay to be jealous that someone else is taking up my time Clark. Jealousy is a natural human emotion. You don’t have to be superman all the time. I know we’ve been friends for a while, and Victoria coming into my life really upset that balance. We’re still friends, Clark, no matter what woman _or_ man comes into our lives.” Lex spasms slightly as he finishes speaking, his vein subtly protruding in anger at the thought of Clark with a stranger in his arms.

“Lex,” Clark whispers, “I-I don’t know what to say. I really- You’re kind of left me speechless.”

“And I wanted to say, if it would help, Clark, you’re welcome at the Manor whenever you want. If I can help it, we’re going to be in each other’s lives for a very long time, and I told you before, I don’t want anything or anyone to stand in the way of our _friendship_.”

Clark is suffocated in Lex’s gravitas, the words a sweet balm to his ripped soul. He feels his eyes tearing up, and he quickly works to blink them away, aware that they are not alone in the Beanery.

“Thanks, Lex. You-” Clark blushes and stares Lex in the eyes, “You mean a lot to me too.”

At Lex’s wry smile, they both let out a relieved laugh, taking in the happiness until a second later it turns sour.

“Hi, Lex.” Amy walks up to Lex Luthor with a beaming smile, nervously folding her hands.

“Amy.” Lex smiles at her, and it infuriates Clark, “What a surprise.”  
  
Lex takes a sip of his coffee, slightly displeased that she would interrupt his personal conversation with Clark.  
  
“I just saw your car outside, so I thought I’d come say hi.” She grins at him, fluttering his eyelashes like it would make him fall in love if she did it fast enough.

Jealousy twists like a knife in his gut, and Clark starts tapping firmly on his thigh, counting the seconds until she left.

Lex watches from the corner of his eye as Clark scowls faintly at Amy’s abrupt appearance, and makes to close their short conversation, “Well, I appreciate the gesture.” He turns back to Clark, yet Amy does not leave.

Twirling her hair, trying to sound seductive, Amy says, “So, now that Ms. Hardwick is gone, hopefully things will be back to normal.”

Lex turns his head, giving her a strained smile, “Victoria will be back in a few days. She’s really not as bad as you think, Amy.”

Amy’s smile turns into a grimace, noting the way Lex seems to ignore her in favor of Clark, “I never thought that.” She laughs nervously, shooting a fierce glare at Clark, and leaves as quickly as she came, “Well, bye.”

Lex watches to make sure Amy has really left, and then turns back to Clark, “Sorry about that. Where were we?”

Clark smiles faintly at him, “Are you sure it’s just a teenage crush?”

“Trust me, Clark,” he smirks, “I know when someone has a crush on me.”

Clark rolls his eyes, a sarcastic, “Sure,” slipping out of his mouth.

Lex sits back in his chair, sipping on cheap coffee, “Well, do you want to discuss this Dating Protocol, you were talking about earlier, then?”

“Yeah,” Leaning forward Clark spoke animatedly, “ So, I was thinking if we’re seeing another person and it’s a pretty _sticky_ relationship, we could just think of places to meet when we need some space away from our significant others.”

Lex purses his lips, “Significant others, Clark? We’re not exactly getting married anytime soon.”

Clark scowls for a second too long, before forcing a smile on his face, “Partners. Lovers. Boyfriend. Girlfriend. _Whoever_. I just thought that we could use a place where we go when we need some space. Maybe we go watch a cheesy old movie, or I can teach you how to fish and we find mutant fish in the water.”

“Or,” Lex rubs his hands together, “We could go to Metropolis, visit some museum or restaurants. Sorry, I’ve never been much of a nature guy.”

Clark laughs, “It wouldn’t hurt you to get out and enjoy the sun.”

Lex rolls his eyes fondly at Clark, “The sun doesn’t love everyone, Clark.” Looking avidly at Clark’s tan skin, soft, firm, and stretched between muscles that would put Narcissus and Adonis to shame,   _Just you,_ he thought.

Clark squirmed in his seat, as Lex stared him up and down, the single focus of a hungry gaze.

“What is it, Clark?”

Clark’s eyes flickered to the exit, where Amy had left not even ten minutes ago, and opened his mouth to speak.

 

* * *

 

Amy’s mother opens to door to Amy’s bedroom, “I don't know what to say, Mr. Luthor. Amy's been having some trouble in school, but I can't imagine she would actually try to hurt Miss Hardwick.”

She paces the room, a worried look on her face,

Clark steps into the room and looks at her sympathetically, lying to her face, “I hope I'm wrong.”

Lex leans down a bit, carefully opening a cabinet, frowning deeper the longer he stared.

“Looks like she’s been collecting you,” Clark shivers, remembering the feeling of being stalked from his past life.

He watches as Lex pulls his watch from behind one of the pictures, lips pursed but face blank, “My watch.”

Clark smiles, hearing the relief in his words.

Mrs. Palmer’s eyes widen, and she tries to speak, “We had no idea, Mr. Luthor. Please don't call the police.”

Lex shakes his head at her frantic tone, a frigid yet caring look on his face,“I'm not interested in retribution or publicity, but Amy needs help. Counseling, medical treatment, whatever it takes. Just send me the bill. Even so, I think it'd be best for everyone if you left the mansion tonight. I am grateful for your services and all your family has done for me, but this is a matter of my personal safety.”

She looks down stricken, “Yes, of course. Mr. Luthor.”

She exits quickly, terror in her pace.

Lex turns around pulling Clark into a swift hug. “Thank you, Clark. This watch meant the world to me.”

Clark slowly rubs circles on Lex’s back, “I know, Lex. I _know_.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Ma, this is Clark. I’m leaving a message cause you’re probably helping Dad with some chores and Lex and I are going to have a movie night. I’ll be back before dinner though, so please don’t worry. Bye, Ma, love you.”

Clark gently shuts Lex’s phone, and hands it back, grinning ear to ear, “Thanks for letting me borrow your phone, Lex.”

Clasping his phone, Lex watches Clark head towards the media room, “No problem. What movie do you want to watch?”

“Hmm. Oh! I know, we could do horror movies!” Clark waves his hands around, jumping in excitement.

Lex shakes his head, smiling wider, “Then let’s get it on. Let’s see what you’re made of, Clark.”

“We could watch The Blair Witch Project, The Sixth Sense, The Puppet Master or Deep Blue Sea.”

They walk into the room, sedately, and Lex takes a seat on the comfortable couch, “I’m not sure I have the third one, but the other three definitely.”

Clark skulks the CD rack, walking over and pulling out horror movies one by one.

He eagerly opens The Blair Witch Project, and pops it into the CD player, before leaping onto the couch, curling up to Lex’s side.

“You don’t want any snacks, Clark?”

“Not right now. Let me relive the nostalgia.”

Blinking, Lex turns to Clark, “The nostalgia?”

Clark looks at him wide eyed and laughs, “ _Nothing_. Shh, the movie is going to start.”

Lex sighed, and settled against the softness of Clark’s skin, the rest of the world sans the movie and Clark, unimportant.

 

* * *

 

The credits to Blair Witch rolling, Lex got up and stretched, Clark already rearing to change the movie.

Phone in hand, Lex turned to Clark, “I’ve got to go say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Palmer, Clark. I’ll be right back, try not to start without me, alright?”

He smiled at Lex, “Wouldn’t dream of it. Go, say goodbye.”

Lex walked briskly down the hallways, and opened the doors to the manor, seeing the Palmers packing up. Amy approaches him, tearfully, “I just wanted to feel close to you.”

Lex does not smile as she lowers her eyes and walks away, knowing that others would take any sort of positive interaction as _approval_.

“Jeff is going to pack everything else. My husband will be back in the morning to pick it up. Again, Mr. Luthor-”

Lex smiles reassuringly at her, “It's okay, Mrs. Palmer. Drive safely.” He watches them drive away, relief surging in his veins now that Amy has left the premises. He picks up his phone and dials quickly, “Yes, I'd like to leave a message for Victoria Hardwick.”

Suddenly the phone flies out of his hand, and Lex watches his surroundings carefully, “Who's there? Come out and show yourself.”

Nothing appears.

He sees nothing and then darkness.

 

* * *

 

“Hello?” Chloe knocks on the door to the barn, “Anyone home?”

Chloe runs up the stairs to the loft and finds no one. “Great,” she grumbles, “Just when I need to tell you something important, suddenly you’re not here!”

She leaves the paper filled with Amy’s blood type and scribbles a quick note, “I’ll give you a piece of my mind tomorrow, Clark Kent!”

She huffs and makes her way down, wondering if Lana would be down for a movie night that weekend. She needed some time away from all the testosterone.  

 

* * *

 

Lex awakens slowly, mind woozy from the blunt hit, listening to a hateful voice ringing in his office, “Don't you understand? She loved you. How could you send her away?!”

Lex groans, but keeps a calm facade, “Who are you?”

The voice growls, _angry_ , “Suddenly you care? Master Lex with his castle, his plant, his expensive cars. When did people ever matter to you? When did _we_?”

“Jeff?” Lex inhales sharply, gingerly standing, “Where are you?”

“I'm surprised you even know my name.” Jeff sneers, “Did you forget the unspoken rule? Servants are supposed to be invisible. We tried to hide, fade into the woodwork. My parents learned to live with it, said it was how the world worked, that we had to know our _place_ , but Amy wanted more. And I'm through pretending!”

An invisible force knocks Lex to the floor, and Lex stifles a pained gasp, “What have I ever done to you?”

His eyes try to track Jeff’s voice, “Not to me,” Jeff yells, “To Amy! She loved you and you threw her out like she was nothing.”

Lex shakes his head again, “I thought she was attacking Victoria. Thought she put her in the hospital.”

Jeff laughs, voice suddenly smug, “That was me. I wanted to scare her, make her leave. I wanted everything back to the way it was for Amy. But you're not interested in love, just in _lust_.”

Lex struggled to back up from Jeff’s voice, the ropes digging into his arms, “That kind of love could get me arrested. She's a little young for me, Jeff.”

Jeff grabbed the sword off the wall, swinging angrily, “That’s a lie, and you know it! I know the way you look at Kent. The way you _revel_  when he touches you. I even know how many times you’ve woken up moaning his _name_ . He’s the same age as Amy yet you _love_ him instead.” Jeff spits out the truth he tried to deny himself, like poison dripping from a cornered snake.

“You ruined her life! Our lives! Why couldn’t you just love her? Everything would’ve been perfect. I'm not gonna let you hurt her again!”

Jeff threw the sword and Lex’s heart stuttered, barely managing to turn his head, the sword penetrating the wall behind.”

“Lex?” Clark’s voice echoes in the hallways.

Heart racing, Lex yells,  “Clark, get away. Call the poli-” Jeff silences him throwing him against the wall, knocking him out.

“Lex,” Clark screams, running into the room, eyes flickering to Lex’s fallen form.

“What’ve you done to him?”

“Stay away from him, Kent. This is your fault too,” Jeff screamed.

Clark stood still, watching the ‘empty’ room, “Jeff, what happened?”

“Chemistry, Kent.” Jeff bragged, “Some plants don't absorb light. They refract it. I found a weird green rose on the grounds and I studied it. And then, I used the oils to become what I've always been... to Lex, the people at school, everyone.”

Clark smiles as Jeff picks up the mace and swings it at him, the antique shattering as soon as it touches him.

“That's right.” Jeff muses, “I've heard Luthor talk about you like you're something special. You and Victoria, always taking all the attention from Amy. He talked about you like his sun set and rose by you. He’s sick Kent, the way he wants you, how much he wants you. Why couldn’t he love Amy that way? Why are you so special?" Jeff spat, "Never mind, it doesn’t matter now, because I'm special too."

Clark pushed Jeff into a the same scaffolding as last time, and he fell unconscious, the paint covering his body.

Clark ran to Lex's side, gently turning his head, afraid to move him just in case he was hurt more than visible. Eyes settling firmly on the phone in his office. _Well_ , he thought, _that was rather anti-climatic_ . Dialing 9-1-1, he watched Lex, a zing of pleasure coiling in his gut, because Lex was _obsessed_ with him _too_.

 

* * *

 

Clark helped Lex down the stairs, “Are you sure don’t want the EMT’s to look you over, Lex? You took a nasty hit.”

Lex shook his head, “I’m fine, Clark, I wasn’t hit that hard. I don’t even have a headache.”

“What do you think's gonna happen to Jeff?”

Lex grimaced, “A lot of serious therapy. Clearer question is how he made himself invisible.”

Clark bit his lip, “I’ll tell you later? After you’ve rested a bit, Lex.”

Lex looked at him in shock, “I've survived worse. Can't say the same about my father's antique collection, but what if I want to know _now_? How do you even know?”

Clark stuck his tongue out, teasing, “Villainous Monologue. And sorry, but Dr. Clark Kent says no higher thinking skills in operation for the next twelve hours, or at least after you wake up tomorrow. Also, I’m sorry about your room.”

Lex laughed, wiping a small tear from his eye, “Don't be. My mother always hated that room. ‘War is in our nature,’ She said. ‘We don't need to put it on display.’”

“Wish I could’ve met her, she sounds amazing.”

“She was.” Lex’s eyes narrowed, “Don’t think you’re off the hook, Clark. You’re staying over, because there is no way I’m going to be able to go to sleep if you’re not in the Manor.”

Clark laughs, and they watch as the ambulance pulls away. Clinging to Lex’s arm, as he’s pulled into the Manor, Clark pretends to sulk, “There goes my plan of falling asleep in the loft and making you sleep in hay.”  
  
“Yeah, keep dreaming, one day it’ll come true.” He pats Clark’s shoulder gently, “Go call your parents, before they wake up tomorrow with the phone ringing off the hook because gossipers want to know what happened at Luthor Manor.”

“I will. I can’t believe we’re finally having a sleepover, Lex!”

Lex rolls his eyes, walking towards his office, “Soak it in.”

“Are we going to share a bed?”

Lex abruptly stops, almost tripping over himself, “What? No!” 

“ _Clark_...I’m a kicker. And a tosser,” Lex struggles to hide the flush creeping up his face.

“Hmm.” Clark taps his lips, a smile stretching his lips, “Well as long as you don’t mind a little blanket hogging I don’t see why not.” 

He races to the office, throwing a wink to Lex.

Running after him, Lex gasps for air, as he barrels through the office door, “Clark! Seriously?!”

Clark shushes him, smugly pointing to the dialing phone in his hand, and as Lex catches his breath, he can’t help the smile on his face, nor the worry in his eyes. Looking at Clark talk on the phone with his parents he mused,  _One day he wouldn't be able to make excuses and hide his love of Clark, and it terrified him._

 


	8. Hug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle looks at Lex sharply, “You have feelings for Clark, don't you, Lex? You see him, and you want him. Even if you know it’s wrong, it doesn’t stop your thoughts does it? All this time, you've been hiding it. Now you can show him without feeling any doubt.”
> 
> Clark stood still, fire hydrant red, and touching his lips, “Let's just say he proved his point,” he said breathlessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all my lovely readers! Today's an update during the day (how rare) because I have a busy day ahead of me but I still want to update on time! Can I just say I really liked writing this episode, even if I had to rewrite the beginning at least twice over?
> 
> Also, warning, lots of masturbation ahead, cause these are horny (and pig headed) boys.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter and leave a comment and kudos! Thanks for sticking around every week, loves, hope you enjoy the 10k!

“I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it; you have broken mine.”- Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

 

* * *

 

Chloe steered the horse, nervously grabbing the reins. “Whoa! I thought learning to drive my dad's Volvo was difficult. I think I’m going to die, this horse doesn’t exactly come with an automatic shift.”

Clark laughed, “Chloe, you're doing fine for your first time.

“Where's my- Oh. I dropped my camera.” Chloe scrunched up her face in worry, “I hope it’s not broken, where ever it is.”

Lana smiled at Chloe reining her horse backwards, “Chloe, what did you bring the camera for anyway, Chloe? Are you taking some nature shots for the Torch?”

Chloe snorted, “No, sorry but nature shots just don’t sell. You have 30 years of Torch articles as evidence back at HQ. People come in here, and when they leave they can't remember a thing. There've been dozens of incidences in the past ten years and I want to get to the bottom of it. Without having my butt _dying_ .” She whines, “Riding a horse is the most uncomfortable thing _ever_.”

Lana nods her head as Chloe speaks, “Then I'll go get your camera. It sounds like you’re gonna need it if we don’t want a boring article this week.”

Chloe blows kisses to Lana, pretending to send them fluttering through the air, “Thank you, Lana, you’re the best!”

“I know.” She yells back, galloping down the dirt path.

Clark snickers at Chloe and Lana’s antics, “The stories in these woods go back to the civil war, Chloe, are you sure you can narrow it down or are you going to need a historian?”

Chloe rolls her eyes, trying to gently rein her horse to walk down the path,  “I'm talking about the thing that happened like a week ago. Some surveyors from Rickman Industries came screaming out of the woods, and they can't even remember what happened. Doesn’t that sound suspicious?”

Clark grinned, “What’s the theory this time?”

Chloe eyed him up grinning from ear to ear, “Smallville’s most cryptid local, Kyle Tippet.”

Clark opened his water bottle, “The guy who sells those sculptures in town?”

“Yeah,” She nodded, “Don't you think it's odd he lives out here all alone in the woods? Maybe even a little Blair Witch?” She wagged her eyebrows.

Clark took a deep drink, gulping down water, “Thoreau did. Living in the woods is just normal for some people.”

Blowing hair out of her face, Chloe said, “So did the Una-bomber. So does Lex Luthor! I mean you can’t tell me he’s not at least a little weird-”

A scream echoed in the forest, farther down the path, and they both turned their heads towards the noise.  

Clark nicked at the horse to run, flicking the reins harshly as he and Chloe galloped down the path towards Lana.

Lana lies on the ground like before and Clark sees Kyle Tipped leaning over to shake her awake.

“What’s going on?” Chloe yells, hazardously stopping her horse, dismounting, and stomping towards Kyle and Lana.

Kyle turns away from an unconscious Lana, backing out of sight and running away.

Chloe shakes Lana awake, “Oh my god, are you okay, Lana?”

Lana sits up dazed, “Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine.”

Chloe helps her up and wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady. She looks around the forest frowns when she doesn’t see Kyle. “Let’s go, Clark. We have to get Lana to a doctor.”

“Yeah,” he nods, and picks up Chloe’s camera yet again.

 

* * *

 

Clark rewinds the tape in Chloe's camera as he and Jonathan watch it together. Clark slows down the tape as Kyle barely approaches Lana in the shot crouching down to shake her. He watches as Chloe stumbles furiously worried into the frame, scaring Kyle away and then checking to make sure Lana is alright.

Jonathan clears his throat, “Well, Son, that didn’t tell us much.”

Clark sighs, “I know, but it doesn’t look like he was trying to hurt her, just trying to wake her up.”

Martha walks towards them hanging up the cordless phone, a worried look on her face, “Okay, Nell. Thank you. Bye.”

Clark arches an eyebrow at her tone, “How's Lana?”

Martha puts the phone down on the coffee table, “She has a mild concussion. Other than that, she's fine. Chloe really went all out, no wonder the doctors are scared of her.”

Jonathan tries not to smile at Martha, “And Nell?”

Martha purses her lips, “That's a different story. She wants Clark to go to the police and say that he saw Kyle spook Lana's horse and attack her.”

Clark scoffs at Nell’s overprotective tendencies, “That's not what I saw. If we show her the video-”

Martha pats his head, “If we show her the video she’ll just use it to fabricate more baseless thoughts in her head, sweetheart. Based on her tone, I don't think we've heard the end of this and telling her we have a video will only make it worse.”

Jonathan turned to Clark,“Did Kyle seem at all dangerous to you?”

Clark shook his head, “He seemed scared when we approached him, he spooked more than a deer and shot out of there quickly. Chloe mentioned that some surveyors were spooked last week in the woods, and now us. Maybe there’s a connection.”

Martha rubbed her forehead, “Jonathan, you should go talk to Kyle, get this cleared up before Nell does something drastic.”

Jonathan nodded, “Yep. Let me get my jacket and I’ll be on my way.”

Clark stood, “No, I’ll go, Dad.”

Jonathan looked at him, “Son, I don't think that's a good idea. At least until we know he had nothing-”

Clark cut his father short, internally apologizing for being disrespectful, “It's not like he can hurt me.”

Jonathan frowned deeper, “That is not the point, Son. We want to keep you safe-”

“ _Dad_ ,” Clark said, “I know what it's like to be hidden from the world. To not feel like other people aren’t safe around you. Give me a chance to prove that he’s more than what Nell thinks he is.”

Jonathan and Martha have a silent conversation with just a look.

“Alright,” Jonathan aqueses, “Do you know where Kyle lives? Do you want me to drive you there and I’ll wait in the truck?”

Clark laughs, “I’ll be fine Dad, Ma. I’ll just follow the trail of bad sculptures. No parental supervision required.”

 

* * *

 

Rickman circled the room, “Miss Hardwick, I'm surprised to find you in Smallville.”

Victoria turned and barely flashed a smile as Lex came up behind them.

“Don't encourage him, Victoria.” He kisses her lips then turns to see Rickman’s cheesy smile, “It's funny, I was just saying what this town needs is more pesticides in the water supply.”

Rickman smiled too widely, “Oh, now don't tell me you mind someone else sharing your little sandbox.”

The unpleasant feeling of bugs crawling over his skin emerged at the sight of that smile. Lex circled Bob Rickman, feeling on edge, “Only when they're polluting it. Hello again, Bob.”

Rickman laughed at Lex’s monotone greeting, “ Lex.” He offered a hand to shake and Lex grimaced, taking a glass from the waiter instead.

Victoria arched a brow, and looked Rickman up and down before saying, “I'll leave you boys alone.” As she passes Rickman she shoots Lex a sympathetic look and quickly exits the fake showroom.

Lex walks over to the wall, taking a small sip of his drink, “The photos are a bit over-the-top, but I like what you've done with the place.”

Rickman followed behind, a button in a horrendous shade of blue in his hands, “Oh, it's only temporary. Here, have a button.”

Lex tries not to scoff in disgust, “Pass out enough of these and maybe they won't notice you're rendering the town uninhabitable.”

Rickman smile edges on mania, “I'm just like you, Lex. A government employee sets my emission levels and I abide by the law. You have an objection?”

Lex clenches his jaw, “Let's call it an interest. Smallville's my home now, and I would rather not poison it with miscreants.”

Rickman’s smile begins to fade, “That's right. Yes, Lionel had mentioned that he'd exiled you here.” He mocks, “I had dinner with him a couple of weeks ago, he seemed rather _disappointed_ , Lex.”

Lex raises his eyebrows, “Yeah? What happened, somebody more important cancel on him? His standards really leave something to desire if he’s willing to have you as a dinner guest. Are you sure you weren’t the fool?”

Rickman smile drops, “Ha ha ha, you’re certainly a laugh. Don't worry, Lex. I'll keep my concerns away from the Luthors. I’ve already found the perfect place for the plant. It's out of the way of LuthorCorp and near enough to the river.”

Lex’s eyes narrow, teeth grinding, “The Kent farm? I assume you've approached them?”

Rickman eyes light up with amusement, “Well, that's just a formality.”

Lex almost turns away, teeming with worry, “The way licenses and zoning permits always seem to be a formality for you, Bob. I _know_ the Kents, and not even you could convince them to sell that farm.”

Lex starts to leave, feeling like he needed a long shower to get rid of Rickman’s presence.

Rickman said, sounding sickeningly happy, “You'd be surprised.”

Lex turns around to look at him, internally shuddering at the blank smile, and throwing the button back to him, “Trust me, Bob, you’re not nearly as charming as you think you are."

 

* * *

 

 

Clark taps his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulls up to Kyle’s trailer. Clark looks around as he crosses to the trailer and knocks out of courtesy. He waits for a moment before turning around and pretending to be surprised.

Kyle approaches him, a grumpy look on his face, “You're trespassing.”

Clark steps back a smile growing on his face, “How'd you do that?”

“Magic,” Kyle lies, “Haven't you heard of crazy Kyle who lives in the woods by himself? He's somewhere between Bigfoot and the Blair Witch.”

Clark extends his hand for Kyle to shake but he turns away, “I’m-”

“Clark Kent. Jonathan and Martha's son,” Kyle finishes for him.

“Right,” Clark nods, “I wanted to talk to you about what happened this afternoon.”

“You mean the girl?” Kyle asks, “Well, the horse threw her and I went to make sure she was still breathing. The woods aren’t a good place to pass out.”

Clark tapped his chin, playfully asking, “So, you don't make a habit of scaring people out of the woods and spooking their horses?” He turns back to Kyle holding a hardhat with Rickman Industries printed on it.

Kyle takes the hat from Clark, scoffing,”If I wanted to explain myself all the time, I'd get a job. But I left that world behind for a reason. Goodbye, Mr. Kent.”

Clark said to Kyle as he walked away, “Why are you so unfriendly?”

Kyle turned back to Clark, “Because I'm not interested in friends.”

Clark, fond, reminisced, “Everyone needs a friend.”

Kyle grumbled, “No they don't, because they'll always betray you in the end.”

“Not if they’re a good person,” Clark says as Kyle begins to shut the door, “They must’ve been a pretty awful one to make you believe that.”

Kyle shuts the door to his trailer firmly, and Clark walks to his truck, wondering whether he should start a new mix tape.

 

* * *

 

Clark enters the Beanery running his fingers over the the rim of his turtleneck taking a seat across from Lana.

“Hey, Lana. How you feeling?”

“Better,” she smiles, “Thanks. Nell said you were going to talk to the police?”

Like a poltergeist that won’t go away, Clark spots Whitney with two mugs in his hands slowly making his way towards the table.

Clark whispers, “I thought you guys were having troubles, you know with Whitney not caring and all that.”

Lana bit her lip, “We are. But when he heard that from Nell that something happened to me he was worried,” she trailed off, “I still don’t know what we are, or what we’re doing at this point, but if it keeps dragging out, I think it’ll just be kinder to end it.”

Clark nods his head in sympathy, and Lana shakes hers and smiles up at him, “Anyways, that’s not important right now. What’ve you’ve been doing?”

“Actually,” Clark grimaced as Whitney approached, knowing there was no way out, “I went out and spoke to Kyle.”

Whitney practically slammed the mugs on the table, “You talked to that psycho?”

Clark shifted, uncomfortably, “Yeah. He said that he was just trying to make sure Lana was okay.”  Whitney settles down heavily on the chair next to Lana, as she asks, “Do you believe him?”

“Yes. Lana he didn’t seem like a bad guy. A bit awkward, grumpy, but not malicious.”

Whitney grumbled, laying back in his chair, “If I were there, I would have done something.” He shoots an accusatory look at Clark and Lana sighs.

Clark rolls his eyes, facing Lana instead, “Do you remember anything?”

Lana shakes her head, “Not really. It’s all just a blur before and then darkness.”

Clark hums, turning his head just in time to see Lex look away, “I gotta get home. I'm glad you're okay.” He excuses himself with little trouble and heads towards Lex.

Lex smiles at him, almost drawing him into a hug before remembering where they were, “That looked uncomfortable. Has Fordman been bothering you much?”

“No, Lex. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a while. Please don’t worry about him.” Clark takes a seat on the bar stool, turning in a circle as he speaks.

“Fine, but tell me if he does, Clark.” Lex shifts his stance, “Listen, has Bob Rickman been by the farm?”

Clark leans on his elbow, “Bob Rickman? Why would he be interested in us?”

Lex knitted his brows, “He's interested in buying your land, to build some pesticide plant, and knowing Bob’s history he’ll up the emissions until Smallville is uninhabitable.”

Clark raises a brow, “You know my Dad, Lex. Why are you even worried? If he wouldn’t sell to you when he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t sell to some sleazy salesman wanting to pollute Smallville. I think my Dad has learned his lesson since he met yours.”

Lex smiled but it quickly turned upside down, “I've seen Rickman talk people out of house and home. He's a locust, Clark. He tears through a community and betrays anyone who trusts him.  No matter how he looks in that tacky outdated suit, apparently he can be rather...persuasive. Tell your dad to be careful. _You_ be careful.”

Clark squeezed Lex’s hand, “We will, Lex. Don’t even worry about it.”

“So, how’s it going with Victoria?”

Lex blinked at the sudden topic change, “And why do you want to know?”

Clark stuck his tongue out at Lex, “Are you saying I can’t know what you’re doing with the Bond Girl? What if I just want to give some advice?”

“Oh, yeah?” Lex leaned into Clark, “And what advice can you give?”

Clark planted a kiss onto Lex’s forehead, “Absolutely _nothing_. See you, Lex!” He grinned at the blank expression on Lex’s face, running down the street to just in time to meet Kyle, it was time started expressing his love more often.

Clark rubbed his cheeks, waning his smile down, “Kyle. What are you doing here?”

Kyle stopped short upon seeing him, “Uh, just registering a complaint.”

From the corner of his eye he sees Whitney angrily cross the street, as he asks, “What do you have against Rickman?”

“There used to be a time when people just minded their own business.” Kyle snarks, and Clark looks down pretending to be admonished.

“Hey, Tippet!” Whitney yells into his face.

Kyle turns, confused, to Whitney, “And what's your problem?”

Whitney jabs his finger angrily at Kyle, “You are. Touch Lana Lang again, and I'll take care of you myself.”

Clark stepped in between them, “Whitney, back off and calm down.”

Whitney snarled at Clark and Kyle, “I've got my eye on you. I don’t care what you say or think, Kent.”

Kyle stares as Whitney leaves, exasperatedly astonished, “And that's why I don't come into town.”

Clark stifles his laughter, “You want a ride home? So you can avoid any other encounters?”  

Kyle narrows his eyes, taken aback by his kindness, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“I figure you're not a bad guy. You're just not a people person. Grumpy face and all.”

Kyle breaks into laughter, a light flickering to life in his eyes, “What gave it away?”

Clark just smiles at him, “You want a ride or not?”

Kyle grins back, “Yeah, I gotta stop and get groceries. Thank you.”

Clark shakes his head, fondly remembering the letters Kyle wrote to him as he drifted from city to city, “No problem.”

Walking towards the passenger door and opening it for Kyle, Clark knew that this Kyle would be just as _good_ as the one he knew.

 

* * *

 

Pulling up to Kyle’s trailer Clark asks, “Are you sure you don’t need anything else?”

Kyle says, “Not at all. Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it.”

“Next time don't talk my ear off,” he teases and sees his eyes light up more.

“Why were you at Rickman’s, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Kyle looks at him and shoots back the question with enough snark and curiosity to hide the fact that he was a regular old Smallville cryptid, “Why were _you_ at Rickman's?”

Clark snorted, “I heard a rumor he's trying to buy our farm.”

Kyle frowned a minuscule amount, “Stay away from him.”

Clark looks at Kyle wistfully, “Do you miss it? A regular life, I mean?”

Kyle crookedly smiles, as if remembering a fond memory, “Some people weren't meant to have a regular life, Clark. And I’m alright with that. Thanks. Bye.”

Kyle curtly says goodbye as Clark waits until he’s close to the door to slowly pull away and hide until Whitney arrives.

Clark watches as an possessed Whitney tries to murder Kyle, stepping in before Kyle can hit Whitney with a bat.

Clark gently knocks Kyle out, hitting his head with enough pressure to make him unconscious but not hurt him.

As Whitney comes out of Bob’s influence panting, Clark begins to dial 9-1-1. He’d forgotten how acquainted him and the operator were by the time he graduated high school.

His father steps closer to them, “They're booking Kyle for assault. All right, what happened, guys?”

Whitney grumbles, confused, “I saw Kyle in town. He blew me off, so I came out here to talk.”

Jonathan sighs, “So you drove all the way out here in the middle of the night?”

“Yeah,” he says mulishly, “I had a feeling he was going to attack Lana again. Next thing I know, he attacks me with a bat. That enough of a psycho for you, Kent?” He glares at Clark reproachfully.

Jonathan squeezes his shoulder, “Is that what happened, son?”

Clark clenched his jaw, “I saw Kyle swing at Whitney, but Kyle says Whitney swung at him first.”

Whitney scoffs, grimacing deeper, “That's crazy. Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, Whitney, none of this makes any sense.”

Whitney throws his hands in the air, “Yes it does! First he attacks Lana, then he comes after me. The guy's dangerous and needs to be locked up.” He grits his teeth, sneering at Clark, “No matter what psycho sympathizers think, let me guess, Lex Luthor wasn’t enough and now you’re going around collecting them?” 

“What did you say?” Clark walks up to Whitney, “Just because you’re dating Lana doesn’t mean I won’t-”

“Cry me a river, Kent. All you do is let Luthor fight your battles for you.” Whitney snarls in his face.

“Whitney, _Clark_ ,” Jonathan breaths in deeply, “We've all had a rough night, why don't the both of you just calm down, alright? We don’t want to go around calling people names or -”

“You saw it with your own eyes,” Whitney spat, “That freak tried to kill me! Now you're saying it's my fault? How fucking blind are you?”

Walking off in anger, Whitney leaves behind a sullen Clark and exasperated Jonathan.

 

* * *

 

Chloe holds a copy of a newspaper with a story and picture of Kyle tsking the longer she looked at it. “Tippet hasn't broken hermit status in years and all of a sudden he's one of Smallville's most wanted? Something must have made him snap. What do you think it was?”

Clark munched on a banana, “I think it's Bob Rickman.”

Chloe sat on top of the desk, flapping the newspaper around, “Yeah, but what does our local cryptid have against Rickman, other than the obvious poisoning the environment angle? Unless he's a real environmentalist down to get dirty.”

A muffled, “I don't know. Could you do some digging, find a connection?” came out of Clark's mouth as he finished his banana.

“Oh yeah! Sounds like the story of the year! A tree-hugging hermit versus pesticide tycoon, Smallville will eat it up. I would kiss you for giving me the story but it’d be too weird.”

Chloe looks at pictures of Kyle and Bob Rickman, and Clark asks, “I also take hugs and head pats as payment. Or you could swear your allegiance to my reign that’d be nice.”

“I think I'll pass on the allegiance to your reign thing, I don't really support royalty. I'll pay in hugs later.”

Clark laughed, “Alright. Now what do you think they have in common, Chloe?”

“Definitely not their personal grooming habits. Personally I'd rather look like Kyle than Rickman, that suit gives me hives. And that smile, the Wolf from Little Red Riding Hood would be less creepy.” Chloe shudders.

Lana enters the room, stomping in angrily.

Clark waves nonchalantly, “Lana. Hey, what's up?”

Lana stops short of a few feet from Clark, “Can you give us a minute, Chloe?”

“Yeah.” Chloe raises an eyebrow at Clark as she leaves, intrigue written all over her face. She points at Lana and shrugs, miming a phone call at him, closing the door behind her.

Lana waits until Chloe leaves, before she begins yelling, “Whitney said you accused him of attacking Kyle?!”

Clark back up, uncomfortable at her anger, “I didn't accuse him of doing anything to Kyle, I'm just taking into account what Kyle said. I also have some questions that he barely answered last night.”

Lana crossed her arms, “Like what, Clark?”

Clark looked at Lana, “Like why was he there, miles away from home, and trespassing on someone's private property?”

Lana sighed, “He was just trying to talk with him. We both know Whitney can be a little overzealous, but his heart's in the right place. Even if he didn’t go about it in the best way.”

Clark shakes his head, “Kyle wouldn't do something like that Lana. Don’t you think it’s more likely Whitney accidentally-”

Lana scoffed loudly, “And you can tell that from knowing him for two days? He's lived in the woods alone for ten years, that has to do something to a person! Whitney might not be the best but he doesn't go around attacking people for no reason, Clark!”

Clark rolled his eyes, “Just because he lives in the woods doesn't take him a psychopath. Kyle’s odd, grumpy, and awkward, but he's not dangerous. And what do you mean he doesn't go around attacking people? In case you forgot, he strung me up in a field for literally no reason except that I talked to you!”

Lana clenched her jaw, “So that's what this was about. This isn't the time for petty grudges, Clark. Yes, what Whitney did to you was wrong but Kyle attacked Whitney and you still want to defend him?”

“Yes, I _still_ want to defend him. Whitney has a history of being unreasonably protective of you, Lana. What makes you think he didn't do something preemptively? If he thought it was alright to hang me up as the Scarecrow just because he was jealous-”

“If you don't like him, just say it. Don't pretend to be kind. I really thought you were my friend, Clark, I guess I'm making a lot of mistakes these days.”

Lana stormed out of the Torch, leaving Clark blinking in surprise at her temper.

 

* * *

 

Jonathan shovels manure and hay into a wheelbarrow as Bob Rickman approaches rubbing his hands greedily.

Jonathan tenses as Rickman comes closer, “You know, a barn's no place for shoes like that.”

Rickman tries to sound humble, “I didn't like them that much, anyway. Bob Rickman, from Rickman Industries.”

Jonathan sighs, and doesn't take the hand offered, “I know who you are. The farm’s not for sale. Lex didn’t have anything good to say about you, so why don’t you beat it?”

Rickman laughed, “Well, perhaps I haven't made the best impression on Lex, but I can assure you, Lionel and I are-”

Jonathan stopped shoveling manure and hay, voice biting, “There's not a snowball's chance in hell I'd consider selling, especially not to Rickman Industries. I didn’t sell to LuthorCorp, and I won't sell to you. Also, you're rather mistaken if you think Lionel Luthor's name will get you anywhere with anyone from Smallville. Especially _me_.”

Rickman circled Jonathan, “You got a problem with progress, Mister Kent? Because this plant will bring a surge of desperately needed jobs to Smallville and you can have a hand in it. Think about it, you being named Smallville’s hero for bringing in desperately needed jobs.”

Jonathan scoffed, “I’m for progress as much as anyone else Mr. Rickman but I’m skeptical about anyone who thinks they can solve my problems with money.”

Rickman smiles unsettlingly, “And why is that Mr. Kent?”

“If I was interested in money, I wouldn't be a farmer, would I? If you'll excuse me, I've got some real work to do.”

Jonathan motions for Rickman to leave pointing towards the exit. He grins as Rickman leaves trying to shrug off his dissatisfaction and anger.

 

* * *

 

 Jonathan sits on a stool, enjoying small sips of lemonade and hiding from the cold sun. Clark walks in through the front door to find his parents sitting at the table talking lazily.

“Is everything okay? You guys don’t really take brakes in the middle of the day...”

Clark eyes his parents warily, wondering if Lex’s warning managed to get through to his father.

“We’re fine, sweetheart, but _someone_ did most of the chores this morning and we can’t seem to find anything to do around the farm.” Martha looks at him stern faced while sipping on lemonade.

“What? I know things aren’t going so well and that we don’t have the money to hire another farm hand, so what if I help out more than I’m supposed to? It’s not like it’s anything bad.” Clark shakes his jacket off hanging it on a kitchen chair.

Jonathan leans back onto the table, “Son, we appreciate the help but you shouldn’t be-”

“I’m not going to sit through a lecture about how you are adults and you’re supposed to be taking care of me, because even adults need help, Dad.” Clark crosses his arms, “Yes, I know Ma’s baking helps, but I’ve seen the statements and we’re barely breaking even most of the time without having to hire _more_ help. I can have most of the chores done if I wake up early enough. Let me do this, _please_ , I know you guys have your pride, but is pride more important than actually paying the bills?”

Martha and Jonathan stare in surprise at Clark’s rant, “You’re a teenager, son, you shouldn’t be worrying about whether we can make the bills or not. This is our problem and it’s one you don’t have to worry about.”

Martha nods along to Jonathan’s words, “Exactly as your father says, we know you worry sweetheart, but it’s our job to put food on the table and provide for you.”

Clark sits down, rubbing his temples, “Why won’t you guys just accept my help? I can do it Ma, Dad. I _can_ . Faster, better, and cheaper than anyone you would hire to help, so why won’t you let me? I know I’m a teenager but I _want_ to help.”

“Son,” Jonathan sighs, “You are a teenager and you won’t always feel that way. Yes, we’re rather strapped for money, but we’re hanging on. We don’t need you to be up in the middle of the night doing chores, missing homework, or hanging out with friends because we have you working.”

Clark huffs, “And what if I don’t listen? You need the help, so let me help!”

“Clark, honey, I know you’re worried, but we can do it. Have some trust in us, why don’t you?” Martha pats his shoulders, comfortingly.

“It’s not that I don’t have trust in you,” he says pouting, “But I have the powers to finish the chores faster than you could walk down the stairs, and I’m not doing anything to help, when we clearly could use it!”

Jonathan frowned deeper, “How long have you felt this way, Son?”

“A long time,” Clark splayed himself on the table, resting his chin on the cherry wood, unwilling to explain himself further.

“You can do the manure, the bales of hay, feeding the cows, rounding them up, _and_ the deliveries, but if I see you doing anymore like you did today-”

Clark sits up in surprise, grinning from ear to ear, “Yes! Thank you, Dad. I’ll take it. I won’t do anymore than you say, unless you’re sick.” He kisses both of his parents on the cheek, and zooms out the door, “I’ve got to go. Just remembered I needed to meet up with Lex, see you at dinner.”

Martha and Jonathan shake their heads as Clark leaves, a strong gust of wind in his wake.

 

* * *

 

Clark carries two mugs and avoids looking at Lana or Whitney as he passes them to get to Lex.

Lex frowns as they glare at Clark’s back, and he closes the folder in his hands. “Ouch. What's that all about?”

Clark smiles faintly at him, and passes a mug over,“I won't cave on my opinion of Kyle Tippet. So, apparently Lana and Whitney both hate me now because they think he’s a psychopath.”

Lex takes a sip of his coffee, and muses, “So you're Atticus.”

Clark’s lips pull upwards, “I don’t know if I could be that objective, Lex.”

Lex arches a brow, “You two have a lot in common. Small-town heroes. Believe in the truth. Not willing to back down. Able to see and step into other people’s shoes despite the oppression you would face.”

Clark shakes his head, “Remind me again how it ends?”

Lex flashes a smile, “It's not about the ending, it's about the journey.”

Clark sits back into his chair, “I know that I’m right. Kyle is a good man, but they’re unwilling to see it, they can’t see it.”

Lex looks at Clark in sympathy, “Sometimes even if what you think is wrong, it’s all you have to hold onto, so you reject everything else. It’s not a good state of mind that is right, but it’s one that keeps you sane.”

Clark drinks deeply from his mug and takes a deep breath, “Thanks for the warning by the way. Dad was real pleased when Rickman left as quick as he came.”

“You’re welcome. I’m just glad that he didn’t talk you out of house and home.”

“And if he had?” Clark asks.

“If he had I would’ve done everything to challenge his claim, and if I failed that, you know you all would be welcome at the Manor.”

Clark flutters his eyes at Lex, leaning across the table to kiss him on the cheek, “The _best_ friend a guy could ever ask for.”

Lex freezes once he feels Clark’s lips on his cheek, warm, soft, and mesmerizing. His mind flashing back to how exactly he wanted those lips stretched around his cock and smeared with him come.

He stops breathing as Clark pulls back, staring at him like he was everything right with the world. Clark’s happiness was overwhelming in its simplicity, and for all he tried to speak, his voice he found, wouldn’t work.

“I’ve got to go, Lex. I wanted to go visit Kyle for a bit and see how he was doing.”

Clark smiles at him, waving goodbye and Lex sits there feeling rather stupidly in love and desperately _wanting_ , watching his figure retreat farther and farther.

 

* * *

 

Clark walks away from the Beanery, blushing down to his chest, savoring the way he’d managed to make Lex freeze. He walks the street across from the police office several times to calm down, and stills, spotting Kyle wearing a deputies outfit, with hat and all.

“Kyle,” he yells, already running towards the man to shift him away from the oncoming bullet, prepared to let it hit him in the shoulder.

He tackles Kyle to the ground, the blood seeping onto his shirt from the shoulder wound. He picks him up gingerly and speeds towards Lex’s manor, hoping that he hadn’t teased Lex enough for him not to be home.

Lex stifles a yawn and paces the floor, “How bad is it?”

“It's no worse than when Ozzy snorted that row of fire ants down in Queensland.”

Clark shoots a look at Lex, and then turns his gaze towards the doctor. Lex steps closer to him and whispers in his ear, “He was a doctor. Now he's more of an on-call specialist. He attends actors, rock stars, billionaires, and the like.”

Clark blinks at Lex’s smirk, “How do you know him?”

“Long story, not a very appropriate one either, Clark.”

“What's a guy gotta do to get a drink around here?” The man continues to complain.

Lex sighs, “Finish sewing.”

He wraps an arm around Clark’s waist, voice tickling Clark’s ear, “Don't worry, Toby appreciates discretion. Nobody will ever know Kyle was here.

Clark presses against Lex, “Thanks,” he says, pretending not to see the way Lex’s eyes dilate as his lips move.

“I'm curious,” Lex grips his waist tighter, “Why did you think I'd be willing to harbor a fugitive?”

Clark chomps down on his lip, a nervous tick he’d never gotten rid of, “My parents would freak, they love me but they wouldn’t be able to morally abide with harboring a fugitive. And if I took him to a hospital, they'd put him back in jail.” He curls his hand into Lex’s empty one, leaning his head back onto Lex’s shoulder, “You're the only one I could trust. The only one who would listen.”

Lex smiles, satisfaction curling in his gut at Clark’s honesty, relaxing as Clark closed his eyes and leaned into him.

“All in all, it's easier than that knife wound of yours. Club Zero, remember that? Bled all over my Mustang.”

Lex unwraps his arms from Clark’s waist, “Can we talk to him now?”

Toby shakes his head, “I gave him something for the pain. He’s out till morning. My usual payment?”

“The brown bag on my desk. See you, Toby.”

Toby nods, picking up his coat from the chair and exits quickly.

Lex pets Clark’s head, softly pressing a kiss to his hair, “You'd better get home, it's late. Do you want a different shirt before you go?”

“Mm, that’d be nice, Lex.”

Clark trails along after Lex as they enter his bedroom, and Lex searches his closet for a shirt big enough to fit Clark.

“If you don’t have anything it’s f-”

Clark is surprised as Lex throws him a plain white shirt then turns around so Clark could change.

Smiling coyly, Clark angles himself so that Lex can see him clearly with the mirror and begins to take his shirt off.

Eyes glued to the mirror, Lex’s breath hitches in agony as Clark takes his shirt off to reveal his perfect chest. Lex swallows harshly seeing the muscle stretch and pull, faint strands of chest hair gleaming in the light, and nipples a dusky pink begging to be played with.

Nails dig into his palm, trying to memorize every inch of Clark’s body that he can see in the mirror. He stands stiffly as Clark pulls the new shirt over his head, the white cotton fabric clinging to his pectorals and biceps with prejudice.

“Are you,” Lex’s voice fails him, “Are you done, Clark?”

Clark turns around smiling, “It’s perfect. I guess I’ll be going then. Thanks for the shirt, Lex.”

Lex turns around just in time for Clark to give him a tight hug, the cotton fabric leaving nothing for his imagination. As Clark leaves, Lex hurriedly undoes his belt, pants and briefs slipping around his ankles, cock springing free from its tight confines. 

Shuddering, Lex strokes himself placidly, remembering how Clark pressed against him, leaned on him, kissed him, unknowingly _teased_ him with every touch.

He groaned, fisting his cock with a frantic vigor, mind running wild with images of Clark kneeling and choking, blue eyes watering, and a heavy flush on hollowed cheeks as he sucked Lex to completion.

Panting as he came, Lex shook away the thoughts that would ruin his buzz, he would worry once he woke up tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

Clark climbs the stairs to his loft slowly, tired, and wishing for the argument with Lana to pass quickly.

He barely smiles as Lana stands from the chair, “Hi, Clark.”

Clark yawns, eyes narrowed, “You're the last person I expected to find here. I thought you and Whitney weren’t talking to me.”

Lana wrung her hands, “I heard Kyle Tippet escaped. I was a little freaked out and Whitney was being a little bit much.”

Clark put his hands in his pockets, rocking on his feet, “Don't worry. He's not coming after anybody.”

Lana blinked in surprise, and then frowned, “How do you know?”

“I just know, Lana. Now is that all you wanted?”

She pulls a tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “I'm sorry I bothered you.”

He rolls his eyes, “If you were worried and as scared as you say you are of Kyle, why did you walk all the way over here, instead of calling?”

Lana turns away from him, arms crossed, mouth set in a tight line, “I don't know, I thought you might have changed your opinion.”

“Well,” Clark sighed, “If you came over for an apology, you won’t get one.”

“Clark, he escaped from jail! You have to admit, it looks pretty bad. If he’s innocent, and I mean _if_ , he’s doing a really bad job of proving it!”

“You don't know the whole story.”

“And you do?” She scoffs, “Then tell me! What is it?”

“I don't know it yet, Lana, but Kyle is a good person and I won’t let his name be dragged through the mud because you’re too scared to see otherwise. Either way, you've already made up your mind about the guy, so what do you care?”

Lana stifles a cry, angrily sniffing, “I wanted to clear the air and preserve our friendship, but now I don't even know why I bothered. You’re so dead set on this guy being innocent that you don’t even care about what he could’ve done!”

Clark watches as Lana stomps off angrily again and sags into the armchair.

Glad to see her gone, he doesn’t spare her a second thought.

Clark slips off his pants, and strokes himself through his boxers, a wet patch forming before ripping them off.

Sinking into his chair, legs spread wide on either side of the armrests, he slowly sucks on his own fingers, coating each digit in saliva before pulling them out with a pop.

Breath hitching, he begins to slowly stretch himself, fingers twisting and pulsing with a needy heat. Hips bucking back and forth, Clark fucks his fingers with harsh intensity imagining Lex was in between his legs, hard and aching to fold him in half and fuck him until sunrise.

He moans out Lex’s name like a prayer to Rao, fingers penetrating his needy hole, riding them until the stimulation of his fingers and cock have him gasping for air and riding out his completion.

_Rao, how he longed for Lex._

 

* * *

 

Jess smiles plainly as she passes the mug to Lex, “There you go.”

“Thank you,” he says, then blows gently on the latte.

“Hello, Lex.” He hears Rickman say, turning he offers a hand to shake.

Lex doesn't pretend to smile looking at his hand in disgust, before taking a drink of his latte.

“Oh, come on Lex. This Art of War stuff is for amateurs. I thought we could be friends, if you would, considering we’re going to be neighbors one of these days.”

“It's not that.” Lex says complacently, “I just don't like you.”

Lex passes Rickman, sighing as he sees the man follow him to his new seat.

“I was surprised to see that Jonathan Kent was rather adamant about not selling the farm because you told him. Word on the block was Jonathan Kent didn’t like the Luthors much.”

Lex smiles as he sits, “I warned you that the Kents were a tough nut to crack. The word on the block can be often wrong, Bob.”

“You see, I don’t know why you’re involved, Lex. This is just business, I’m not going to interfere with LuthorCorp and you won’t interfere with me.”

Lex looks at Bob and says plainly, “Smallville's my home, and the Kents are my friends, Bob.”

Rickman stands, smiling with too much teeth, “Well, with friends like you, Lex.” Rickman passes him and pats his shoulder as he leaves.

Lex turns his head, voice dripping with disgust, “Don't touch me. Speaking of old friends, I heard Kyle Tippet escaped from jail.”

The smile falls from Rickman’s face, “Now, why do you assume we're old friends?”

Lex turns his attention to his coffee, “Just a rumor.”

Rickman frowns, “Have you seen him?”

Lex takes a longer drink of his coffee, “I’ve never met him, but I'll be sure to pass on your regards when I do.”

Rickman scoffs as he leaves, and Clark is sure to shoulder check and glare at him as he does.

Clark greets Lex warmly and takes a seat next to a nervous Chloe.

“Ms. Sullivan, I presume? It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Lex offers his hand to shake and Chloe accepts.  
  
“The pleasure’s all mine and Chloe, please, Mr. Luthor.”

“Lex, please, Mr. Luthor is my father.”

“Right,” Chloe nods, and pulls out an old newspaper with a picture of Rickman and Kyle.

“So, I spent the morning delving into the exotic world of agricultural equipment, and it seems that Kyle and Rickman were partners in the mid-80s.”

Lex leans on his elbows, and peers at the picture, “They sold farm equipment?”

Chloe looks up at him, “Yeah, they were Salesmen of the Year, three years running,  '89, '90 and '91. Then the year after that Rickman started his own company and Kyle went Blair Witch in the woods.”

Clark stared at Lex, biting his lips and eyes roaming his face, “I wonder what happened.”

Chloe shrugged, “I don't know but I found this story in the Smallville Ledger and a lot of possibilities started to open up.” She passed the clipping to Clark and he stopped gazing at Lex to read it, “Salesmen trapped in car after meteor shower.” He raised his eyebrows acting appropriately shocked and then passed the paper to Lex.

“I'm guessing whatever's going on started that day, twelve years ago, when they were trapped together. Considering everything that’s happened in Smallville, I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to assume they might’ve gotten powers?”

Lex stands up, and hands back the clipping to Chloe, “Well then, let's go ask him.”

Chloe blinked in surprise, “What, you know where he is?”

Clark and Lex share a look, both smiling thinly at Chloe’s confusion.

 

* * *

 

Lex walks into the guest bedroom, and looks at the empty bed, “Where's Kyle?”

The nurse, Lila, stares blankly at him, “Who?”

Chloe sighs in exasperation, and Clark blurts out, “I think I know where he went.”

“Right,” Chloe nods, “I’ll stay here and see if she can’t remember anything about her first hand experience, you guys go get Kyle and ask some questions.”

Clark and Lex stare as Chloe descends upon Lila with a vengeance, questions falling from her lips like rain from clouds.

 

* * *

 

 

Kyle steps out of his trailer, closing the door behind him, a duffel bag on his shoulder. “I appreciate the help, Clark, and your kindness but I'm done here.”

Clark shakes his head, “We know that Rickman used to be your partner, Kyle.”

Kyle grits his teeth, and walks past them, “That was a million years ago.”

Lex cocks his head to the side, curiosity evident in his eyes, “What happened to you two in that meteor shower? Surely you know you weren’t the only ones affected by it?”

Clark steps closer to Kyle, “What's going on with you and Rickman? How did he get all these people to do what he wanted?”

Kyle sighs, and painfully reminisces, “You know, until that day we were the worst salesman in the company but it all changed after they pulled us out of that car. With a single handshake we could get people to do whatever we wanted them to do. Buy a tractor. Sell their houses.”

Clark looked at Lex, “You're saying you have the power of persuasion?”

Lex’s eyes narrowed, “How long does it last?”

Kyle smoothed his shirt, “Until the person does what I tell them to do. Could be two minutes, two hours, and then they come out of it without a memory.”

“What happens if they can't do what you want?”

Kyle shakes his head, frowning as he remembers his past, “They keep trying, no matter what. They only stop if they’re forcibly snapped out of it like that Fordman kid.”

Lex looks Kyle up and down, “And, let’s say that everything you told us is true, how do you prove it?”

Clark blinked at Lex’s sudden anticipation and shot him a questioning look.

“Clark,” Lex sighed, “He lives in a trailer in the woods. You'd think if he has this power he'd use it to sell some sculptures, or he’d be living in a mansion like me.”

Kyle shook his head, “It's dangerous, it can make a person do a lot of things they don’t want to.”

Lex steps closer to Kyle, offering his hand, “I’d be willing to take a risk to see if it’s true.”

“Lex!” Clark admonishes.

Kyle grasps Lex tight with both hands, as a green glow begins to emerge.

Kyle looks at Lex sharply, “You have feelings for Clark, don't you, Lex? You see him, and you _want_ him. Even if you know it’s wrong, it doesn’t stop your thoughts does it? All this time, you've been hiding it. Now you can show him without feeling any doubt.”

Clark gapes as Lex shakes Kyle’s hand and turns to him, smirking.

Then he almost falls to the floor in a puddle as Lex runs his hands up and down his chest, gropes his behind, and then give him a raunchy kiss. He blushes to his roots, as Lex begins to add in tongue and lets out a groan of surprise. Lex squeezes his waist with a bruising grip, and Clark struggles to stop kissing Lex, as Kyle looks away surprised and amused.

Whimpering, Clark breaks the kiss and Lex’s tongue slides out of his mouth. He turns back to Kyle as Clark struggles to breathe properly and calm his racing heart.

Lex taps his foot, “Is anything going to happen or do I need to wait an undetermined amount of time for it to kick in?”

Kyle smiles astounded, wagging his eyebrows at Clark.

Lex looks Kyle, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Lex swipes his bottom lip with his tongue and tastes mint. He turns around to look at Clark, curious at the look Kyle threw him.

Clark stood still, fire hydrant red, and touching his lips, “Let's just say he proved his point,” he said breathlessly.

Lex’s eyes widen, “Oh, _fuck_. Clark I-.” Lex shuffles towards Clark, wishing he could remember the kiss, apologies falling from his lips.

Clark squirms as Lex comes closer,  avoiding eye contact, “Don't worry. It was fine.”

Lex stands stiffly a few feet away from Clark, gaze locked onto his plush lips, drowning in remorse and desire.

“Well,” Kyle crows, “Now that the party trick's over, I gotta hit the road. Good luck and goodbye.”

Clark shakes his head, away from Lex and his enchanting tongue, “ Wait. You have this power, but you hide in the woods. Why?”

Kyle starts to walk away, but stops at Clark's question. “Because I was scared that I wouldn't be able to control myself and that I'd wind up like Bob.”

“What happened between you and Rickman? Why does he want to kill you?” Lex’s gaze coldly zeroes in on Kyle.

“He knows that I know his secret...” he trails off, “And,” he says sheepishly, “I threatened to expose him if he ever built a plant here.”

Lex frowns, “He’s been destroying communities like Smallville for years, if you really wanted to expose him why let him get away from it for so long?”

Kyle shook his head, sadly, “I wanted to be left alone! As long as it wasn't Smallville, it wasn't my problem.”

“So you’re just going to leave and let him destroy Smallville until he starts all over again in the next town?” Clark fumes, and Lex places a calming hand on his chest.

Kyle looked at his shoes, “Do you know what it's like to have to hide because of who you are?”

Clark swallowed thickly, “Yes, I do. But when you have a gift you can't just hide in a hole and hope it goes away. You learn to live with it, or it can destroy you.”

Kyle sighs, “Fine. Fine. Let me think about it for an hour, will you? I promise I won’t run.”

Clark and Lex nod as Kyle walks into his trailer and shuts the door behind him.

As Clark makes to go to the Porsche, Lex grabs his arm, “Clark, can we talk about what just happened?”

“I- Lex!”

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Clark.” Lex swallowed zeroing in on pink lips, “If I could I would take it all back.”

Clark frowned, biting his lip, “Would you?”

“There was something I wanted to tell you, but- but I wasn’t sure how. And with what happened with Amy, I wasn’t sure it was appropriate,” Clark stammers.

Lex blinked, “Not appropriate? Well, just what is it, Clark?”

Clark looks at him and takes a deep breath, “This.”

He closes the distance between them, cradling Lex’s head as he kisses him deeply. Lex wraps his arms around Clark’s waist, fingers running up and down his back before settling on his ass and grabbing greedily.

They are for a minute, a mess of tongue, teeth, and lips, enraptured in the taste and feel of each other, before Lex freezes and rips himself away.

Clark huffs as Lex pulls away frantically, stepping back several feet and shaking his head, “I love you, Lex.”

Lex stops breathing as he stares at Clark.

Clark with wet, swollen lips, tousled hair, and needy eyes.

The only thing he can think is, _I’m completely fucked._

 

* * *

 

Lex sits frigidly in his Porsche as Clark and Kyle climb in, on their way to Rickman’s offices.

“Is everything okay, Clark?” Kyle asks concerned.

“Yeah,” Clark says in a quiet voice, “We’re fine, Kyle.”

Kyle looks to Lex, driving, unconvinced, “If you’re sure.”

He leans over to whisper in Clark’s ear, “Are you sure you don’t want me to _suggest_ for him to tell you the truth?”

“No,” Clark whispers back, looking put out, “Sometimes, people aren’t ready for the truth when it confronts them. And forcing them to face it will only make it worse. Thanks for asking though, Kyle.”

Kyle blinks, “It’s the least I could do, Clark, after all you guys are going to help me take down Rickman.”

Lex’s voice sent chills down Clark’s spine before it softened, “What's going on back there?”

They both shut their mouths quickly. “Nothing. Just small talk, Lex,” Clark says avoiding his sharp gaze.

 

* * *

 

Clark climbs out of the Porsche quickly, as they park in front of Rickman Industries, the streets strangely empty.  
  
Kyle marches up the door and knocks heavily, yelling, “Rickman! Open up.”

The door opens quietly, and they all step into the showroom, the door closing loudly behind them.

“Rickman, where are you?” Kyle skulks the hallway closest, yelling at the top of his lungs.  
  
Lex nears the displays, “Bob, I’d say you didn’t seem like the type to hide, but really, I know your type of man. Too scared to do it himself, so he lets someone else do the dirty work.”

Clark looks at Lex nervously, hovering near the entrance, the blankness in his eyes setting him on edge.

Suddenly, a bat comes out of the corner and Kyle falls back as it smashes into the wall, “Fordman? Kid? What the hell?!”

“Just die already, you freak.” Whitney spits, an eerie green glow in his eyes.

Whitney swings again, and Kyle crawls on his knees to get away.

Lex turns to go and help Kyle when a gunshot rings out, shattering the picture behind him, his eyes widen in shock as Lana Lang steps out of the hallway adjacent with a revolver in her hands.

“Don’t even think about it, Luthor.”

Lex eyes her warily, raising his hands above his head, “Lana, you don’t want to do this.”

Lana scoffs, eyes gleaming with a sick sheen, “You have no idea what I want to do, Luthor. Least of all to you _and_ Kyle.”

Clark watches the entrance, anxiety building higher and higher until the glass door shatters behind him. He winces at the loud noise, shouting as a possessed stranger takes a swing at him with a tire iron.

“Lex!” He screams, “Kyle! We have to get out of here. It was a trap!”

Clark trips over a shattered table, gaping in shock at Lana holding Lex at gunpoint, “Clark,” she smiles, “I’d say I’m glad you made it but did you really have to get caught up in this?”

“Guys, we have to-” Kyle starts, panting, out of breath, “Holy shit, she has a gun.”

Rickman laughs, smiling smugly, stepping out the darkness, “And so do I, Kyle.”

Kyle’s eyes widen in horror as Whitney and Rickman converge on him, looking helplessly to Lex held as hostage. He overtakes Whitney grabbing him firmly by the wrist and says, “Knock yourself out, thoroughly.” Whitney struggles as Rickman and Kyle’s powers fight within him, before standing still and charging towards the wall.

The sound of a tire iron ceaselessly hitting the floor rings out, and Rickman turns around angrily, “I told you to take care of the Kent boy. How hard could it be?”

Lex watches, the barrel of a gun grinding roughly into his head, as Clark runs from a possessed civilian eager to attack him.

Rickman sighs, “If you want it done right, you have to do it yourself,” he gripes, and aims at Clark, unhesitatingly pulling the trigger several times in a row.

“ _Clark_ ,” Lex screams, terror rushing in his veins as the bullets head towards Clark.

Holding back a sob, he watches Clark fall to the floor like a rag doll, and Kyle angrily tackles the civilian to the floor, possessing him unconscious.

“Sorry about your friend, Lex,” Rickman smiles, playing at being sad, “But if it’s any consolation, you’ll be joining him soon enough.”

Quicker than his thoughts can catch up, he elbows Lana in the ribs, then throws her to the floor, knocking her head against the wall.

The gunshot echoes in his ear, blasting out another painting, and he tackles Rickman to the floor in a rage.

“You killed him,” Lex screams, a great and terrible anger thrashing to life in him. “You killed Clark,” he rears back ready to wail on Rickman, but Kyle pulls him back and lifts him off.

“Let me. You go. Go see if Clark is alright, remember this.”  Kyle placates him, _controls_ him, and Lex looks to Clark’s body and runs to his side, anger falling to the wayside.

Rickman shakes out of his stupor, and points the gun at Kyle’s face. Kyle’s mouth hardens into a grim line, as they fight for control, hands clasping over the gun, beginning to glow green.

“Goodbye, Bob. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

A glow overtakes Rickman and Kyle steps back, looking away as Rickman puts the muzzle in his mouth and pulls the trigger.

Lex cradles Clark’s head in his lap, running his hands over Clark, then falls back to the floor surprised as Clark sits up confused.

“Clark?” he croaks, wrapping his arms around him.

“Wow,” Clark says dazed, “I’ve never been shot in the head before.”

Lex lets out a choking laugh, head falling to Clark’s shoulder, gripping him like a lifeline.

Kyle blinks as he watches Clark sit up, “I saw you get shot, Clark. Several times.”

Clark’s eyes widen in surprise, “I-uh-”

Kyle breaks into laughter, waving his hand, “Don't worry. Just don't hide in the woods like I did. You got a gift. Use it to do great things. I think I'll do the same with mine. Now, I guess I should start cleaning up before anyone else comes snooping around.”

 

* * *

 

Clark and Jonathan sit at the kitchen table, while Martha stands next to Clark, her arms curled around his shoulders. Jonathan looks over the newspaper, scanning the section about Rickman’s suicide. He looks over at Clark, worried, staring at the small red bruise on his forehead. Martha fusses over the bruises on his chest, frowning at the newspaper.

“I can't believe each one of these bruises was a bullet.” She gently rubs an ointment on them, knowing it wouldn’t help, but hoping nonetheless. Clark hisses as she touches one of the bruises with a cloth. “Sorry, sweetheart, how is Lex by the way?”

“He’s been better-”

“Did he see you get shot?” Jonathan stares at his son, a hard look in his eyes, throwing the newspaper onto the table.

Clark sucks in a sharp breath, and Jonathan sighs, holding his head in his hands, “Guess that answers that question.”

Martha looks to Clark, mouth wide open, “Are you serious? He saw you? We have to go to him right now,” she says, buttoning up his shirt fiercely, “We have to explain, or _anything_.”

“Ma,” Clark says, holding her hands, “It’s alright.”

“How can it be alright?” Jonathan snaps at him, “Yes, we love Lex like family, but we’ve never told anyone else this secret, Clark.”

Clark shakes his head helplessly, “It’s alright. He already knows I’m different. He doesn’t know I’m an alien, Ma, Dad, but he might think I’m a meteor mutant, and isn’t that enough?”

Martha and Jonathan sigh, “Alright,” Jonathan gives in, “But if he starts asking questions-”

“I’ll tell him to go to you,” Clark says dutifully.

Jonathan nods, happy, and then changes the subject, “What do you think happened to Kyle?”

Martha looks to her son, smiling wryly, as he rubs his forehead, “I don't know, Dad, but I think he's out in the world making a difference now. Doing good, you know?”

A knock startles them, and Lana smiles at them, faintly rubbing her neck, “Hi, I, uh, hope I'm not interrupting.”

Clark tries to smile, “No. Come on in.”

Jonathan and Martha share a look, “We'll, uh, we'll be outside, sweetheart.”

As they leave, Lana steps inside, smiling apologetically.

“I didn’t think we were talking anymore, Lana.”

Lana frowns, “I'm not sure what happened with Kyle, and it's really not important. I think our friendship worth more than one argument. And I’m sorry I was so quick to judge Kyle, and turn on you. You’re my friend, and if I want to be a good one, I have to trust your judgement, even if I think you’re wrong, right?”

Clark blinks, “Yeah. Thank you, Lana. Are you doing alright?”

Lana shrugs, “I’ve been better. Woke up outside the woods with the strangest headache, and I-” she trails off, “I decided it was better for Whitney and I to cool our relationship off.”

Clark raises an eyebrow, “Oh. Why?”

“I decided you were right about some stuff,” Lana nods her head, “He’s always been overprotective of me, and I don’t want to feel like some damsel in distress every time something goes wrong. You more or less said that he got too emotional over little things and I was too mad to see that you were right. So, this is me, admitting my wrongs, and apologizing yet again for not trusting your judgement. I’m sorry I’ve been so immature, judgmental, and selfish.”

Clark shakes his head, “You’re a teenager, Lana, expecting you to be anything else is kind of wrong.”

Lana breaks into laughter, “You’re a teenager too,” she says, and the looks at him with a searching gaze, "Although, you know, you don’t really act like one anymore.”

“Thanks for taking the time to talk with me, Clark, especially because I was a monumental jerk to you. I’ve got to go now. Chloe says we have a mandatory girls day ahead of us.”

Clark smiles as she leaves, “See you around, Lana. Hope you enjoy your day.”

 

* * *

 

Lex climbs up the stairs to the loft, a million thoughts in his head coming to a screeching stop once he sees Clark.

“Clark,” he greets, as Clark stands to embrace him.

“Hey,” Clark says nervously, suddenly remembering with utter clarity how he’d confessed to Lex.

Lex smiles at him faintly, as they hug each other awkwardly and then pull away.

Clark rubs his neck and asks, “How are you feeling?”

Lex is taken aback, eyes narrowing at the small red bruise on his forehead,“I’m not the one who got shot, Clark.”

“I’m a fast healer, Lex, I’m almost as good as new,” Clark tries to soothe him, patting his own chest.

“About earlier,-” Clark looks at Lex through his eyelashes.

“It’s alright, Clark.” Lex pats him on the shoulder, before taking back his hand, “I understand.”

Clark stops breathing for a moment, surprised, “You do?”

Lex laughs weakly, “Yes. When you’re a teenager, you get crushes, _puppy love_ , essentially. And while I’m surprised it was me, I’m also rather flattered. I hope this doesn’t change our being  best friends, Clark?”

Clark gapes at Lex’s denial, “No! Lex, this isn't some sort of puppy love or-”

“I know teenagers, Clark,” Lex looks at him blankly, “Hell, I was one not too long ago. Pretty soon you’re going to move on and find someone else to moon over. No hard feelings whatsoever, right?”

“ _Lex_ ,” Clark pleads, stepping closer, but Lex grabs his hands and pulls them to his side, stepping away from him altogether.

“So,” Lex starts, walking around the loft, “Where do you think Kyle is off to?”

Clark looks at Lex sadly, but quickly masks his emotions with fake cheer, “I don't know, maybe some other small town. It's still strange to think that he and Rickman were once best friends. Do you think we'll ever end up like that, Lex?” He asks, voice wavering and beginning to crack, heart thundering in his ears.

Lex gazes at him deeply, void in his eyes, “Trust me, Clark. Our _friendship_ is going to be the stuff of legends.” He smiles at Clark, and Clark almost breaks down and cries at the plastic smile Lex gives him.

_He’d screwed up so badly._

 


	9. Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark whimpers in his sleep, body craning upwards, and Lex reels back as Clark begins to float.
> 
> “It’s too early, still, Éú, Ukr, for you to awaken. Soon Lex will know the truth, all of the truth and together we will fight Zod and Brainiac."
> 
> Clark looks to the sky and prays to Rao, light fading day by day, they would persevere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaaha, hi guys, I know this chapter is a couple days late and I'm soooo sorry! I got it in my head that it absolutely sucked and that I should definitely not post it, so I told myself to not think about it for a few days and then come back and see if I liked it. Turns out it was kind of good? Idk I was just in a real wack head space at the time it was supposed to come out but I'm def better now!
> 
> So sorry for the lateness, but I hope you guys enjoy this chapter all the same!!
> 
> Also, *disclaimer, ya girl doesn't know jack shit about the speed force, time stream, or hyperspace. I just needed an reason as to why Clark was able to travel back in time/use a time machine. Clark's an asshole, but he's an asshole in love with no regrets, and yes, we both love Barry to bits and pieces. *super disclaimer, I literally just read the wiki page on the speed force, time stream, and hyperspace. Forgive me if you're a super huge fan and I'm mangling everything up for you <3 I do it with love and a very general overview of everything.
> 
> Also, also, I'm so sorry I took to long in replying to everyone's comments! Love ya'll didn't mean to neglect anyone!  
> Thanks for all the kind reviews, I'm looking forwards to what ya'll will write today!  
> Much love <3

“Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.”

― William Shakespeare, Macbeth

 

* * *

 

Mr. Summers waves his papers around, yelling at the crowd of students, “Okay, people, you've got 15 minutes. A storm's on its way and I want to be on the road before it hits.”

Anna shuffles around peering at the cloud thick sky, “How many more rocks do we have to find?”

Clark looks at the printed piece of paper, “Two. Rose quartz and meteor rock. We can split up, I get the rose quartz and you the meteor rock, so we can get it done faster?”

Anna smiles awkwardly, “Sure, Kent. If you find some extra can you set it aside? I’ll make you a little something if you do.”

“No problem, Anna, I’ll look forward to it.” Clark waves goodbye and walks toward a secluded spot of the forest. Blinking he uses his x-ray vision to find a cluster of rose quartz, and quickly grabs it, breaking it jaggedly in half.

Clark whistles a jaunty tune, walking with the rose quartz in hand. “Anna,” he yells, “I got the rose quartz.”

“Thanks, that was quick,” Anna yells back, “I’m close to getting some meteor rock, Chloe found a cluster and we’re breaking it in half and sharing.”

Clark looked to the sun and soaked in its rays, stretching to the sky, then suddenly gasped as he started floating in place. A thrill coursed through him when he felt his feet lift off the ground, nothing but air underneath him.

"Hey Clark,” he heard Anna yell, “I don't know what you're doing but hurry it up. Mr. Summers says we have to leave in five.”

Clark startles, dropping to the floor when he hears Anna’s voice. Laying on the floor, covered in dirt, he groans, thinking, _I was so close to flying_ , and then, _isn’t it too early?_ “I’m going,” he says, picking himself off of the floor, trying to pat away the dirt.

Lana sighs at the heat, raising an eyebrow when Clark comes back looking like he rolled in dirt, “Are you okay, Clark?” she says approaching him.

Clark looks at her, she thinks, _No. At my necklace,_ shaking his head something like confusion and hurt in his gaze, “I’m fine. I just tripped on a tree root looking for some quartz.”

Lana gently pats him in the shoulder, consoling him before heading towards Chloe, a question on her lips.

“-I mean it makes no sense!” Chloe rants to a hapless classmate, Anna, Lana guesses.

“Someone's doing a little more ranting than digging,” Lana teases question put aside.

Chloe crosses her arms, grumbling, “I'm sorry, but I find geology even more pointless than algebra. I mean, I could just order these rocks online and have them delivered vacuum-sealed. No need to _enjoy_ the outdoors.” She finishes sarcastically.

“Well,” Lana pulls Chloe in for a hug, “At least now you don’t have to spend your allowance. Who would've thought, the giving nature of _nature_.”

Chloe smiles at Lana’s cheesy jokes, “Shush, let's get going. We still need rose quartz.”

“Aye, aye, boss, please lead the way.” Lana says, following by loosely holding hands with Chloe.

 

* * *

 

Mr. Summers sighs climbing onto the bus as thunder rumbles ominously from the skies, “Has anyone seen Eric? He seems to have gotten lost.” He yells into the chatting crowd, hand on his waist.

Clark raises his hand, “I saw him around him around the dam, sir. I’ll go get him.”

“Okay, thank you Mr. Kent, but hurry it up, we don't want to be caught in the storm. Everybody else begin getting into the bus, and no, I don't care in what order right now.” Mr. Summers said, looking nervously towards the darkening sky.

Clark speeds away, and sees Eric standing on the bridge railing looking up at the sky.

“Eric,” he called out, voice almost masked by the thunder and heavy winds.

Eric turns to see Clark, and Clark lunges for him as the lightning strikes the railing, head pounding as the Kryptonite nears closer and closer.

Clark pulls Eric to the safe side of the dam, breathing heavily even as the lightning continues to strike the dam.“We- We have to get going, Eric.” Clark gasps for air, “The storm is getting worse and everyone is waiting for us.”

Clark winces as Eric nods, putting the Kryptonite in his bag. “Let’s get going then.” He looks at his lift and frowns, “Are you sure I can’t just find a piece of-”

“No,” Clark groans, standing unsteadily to his feet, “The storm is too dangerous. Especially in the woods.”

Eric gives him a flat look, griping, “Fine. But my dad is going to be fucking pissed that I didn’t get to find the rocks I needed.”

Clark started walking away from Eric, snarking harshly, “That’s _your_ problem. I guess you should’ve _actually_ been looking for the rocks instead of almost getting yourself killed by standing on top of the dam’s railing.”

Eric rolls his eyes, practically shoving him aside in a sprint as rain begins to fall from the sky. “Fuck you too, Kent,” he yells back.

Clark breathes easier as he watches Eric run faster down the forest path, looking up the warring sky. As the rain begins to soak his jacket, he starts to run into the forest, but trips, crashing into a tree, dizzy with the closeness of Kryptonite. Shaking his head, Clark begins to get up, almost soaked to the bone.

“Rao, I hate Mondays,” Clark grumbles, and when he steps out from under the tree, lightning strikes, and Clark screams as the current flows through his body, setting alight the shards of Kryptonite embedded into the forest around him.

 

* * *

 

Jonathan looks at the late morning sun and takes a deep breath, yelling, “Clark! I could really use your help. I loaded all the hay-"

He pauses as Clark stumbles outside, pale, and queasy looking, “Are you okay, son?”

Clark shakes his head, “Sorry dad, I’m not feeling well,” he says drowsily.

“Come here,” Jonathan motioned, and raised his hand to feel Clark’s forehead, tsking when he felt nothing wrong.

Clark leaned heavily into his father's calloused hand, “I'm not feeling too hot, Dad.”

Frowning, Jonathan pulled Clark into his arms and helped him up the stairs, “You’re staying home today, son.”

“But the truck-" Clark groaned, as Jonathan all but dragged him into the house.

“Don’t worry about the truck, I’ll call one of the neighbors. Let me get your mother.”

Jonathan settled Clark on the couch, making him comfortable before running off to find his wife.

“Martha! Something is wrong with Clark, he doesn't look too good. I don’t know what happened to him.”

Martha drops the wrench she’s holding, an alarmed look on her face before racing off in the direction of the house.

“What do you mean you don’t know what happened to him?” Martha yells, bursting in through the front door.

Jonathan follows closely behind, worry on his brow, “I mean I don’t know. I needed help with the truck so I called him down, and he comes down looking like _that_. What do you think it is?”

Martha cradles Clark’s head, “Clark, sweetheart, how do you feel?”

“Worse than being run over with a Porsche,” Clark feebly jokes. Martha sighs at his jokes, and Jonathan brings a blanket to cover him with.

Clark smiles, but it quickly turns into a frown as a sharp pounding in his head makes itself known, and Martha and Jonathan rear back in shock as Clark begins to bleed from his nose.

“Clark, son, are you okay?” Jonathan practically shakes with worry, and Martha begins fretting overly.

“M’fine, Ma, Dad.” Clark slurs, “I don’t know I think it had something to do with the lightning.” He says before passing out entirely, head hanging limp in Martha’s arms.

“Lightning?” Martha trembles with the need to shake her son awake.

“What lightning?” Jonathan mumbles.

Martha gently puts his head on a cushion and turns to Jonathan, frowning deeply, “You don’t think he got struck by lightning yesterday and it made him sick do you?”

Jonathan sighs, sitting heavily on a chair, “Could be possible. We won’t know until he wakes up, and we can’t take him to the doctor.”

Martha nods, “We’ll keep an eye on him,” she wrangles him in for a hug, “Let’s hope he doesn’t get any worse.”

Jonathan sinks into her embrace, and they stare at Clark, worry seeping through every pore.

 

* * *

 

Lex sits in his study, face blank, as he plays a simulation on loop. “This is very good work. Hopefully it is all sourced from qualified professionals?”

The man shifts nervously, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants, “Yes, Mr. Luthor.”

“I want to verify these experts myself, Hugh.” He pauses the simulation, “Draw up a list.”

The man, gulps, sweat running down his brow at Lex’s sharp stare. “Right away, Mr. Luthor. I’ll have it sent later today.”

“Good.” Lex smiled at Hugh, and as he turned to leave Lex opened his mouth, “And please, Hugh, don’t forget that this is strictly confidential. If this leaked, well, suffice to say it wouldn’t be pleasant for you.”

“Yes, Mr. Luthor,” Hugh shakes as he leaves, patting at his sweaty forehead with a damp handkerchief.  

Lex sits back in his chair, restlessly staring at the simulation of him hitting Clark, and rubs the curve of his head in frustration.

“Why did you have to tell me, Clark?” He speaks into the empty room reaching across his desk.

Gripping the vase tightly, he throws it at the wall, the shattering glass not enough to soothe his perturbed heart.

“Why did it have to be me, Clark?” He shouts, voice deepening with anger - and it terrifies him, because he can’t tell if it’s Clark he’s angry with or _himself_.

Lex shakes as he runs a hand over his head, on the brink of a war of want, need, and morality.  

As much as he longed for Clark,

As much as he loved him,

It didn’t stop the _distrust_ at his own darkness,

It didn’t stop the urge he felt to devour Clark whole.

To have those shining eyes solely on him,

To wretch Clark far, far away, where Lex couldn’t touch him.

His mouth opened to scream, so much like his heart, - but Lex clamped it shut, packing all his demons away, and sat, watching the hours trickle by as the simulation played on loop.

 

* * *

 

Lana smiles, bag in hand,“Thanks for the ride.”

Chloe taps the steering wheel as she begins to park, “No problem. As long as I can be paid in coffee.”

Lana giggled, “You have a really bad caffeine addiction, but that’s why we love you. Do you want to come in and say hi to Nell?”

Chloe hummed, grabbing her purse, “Sure. I don’t see why not. Maybe if I bring some flowers home, my dad won’t notice my whole closet is on the floor.”

She smiles wickedly, turning off the ignition and stepping out of the car, “Good thinking, Lana.”

Lana sputters with laughter, shaking her head, abruptly stopping when she sees the ‘For Sale’ sign in the window.

“Lana?” Chloe taps on her shoulder, “Are you okay?”

“No,” she says, marching past Chloe and hurtling into the flower shop.

A hurt expression, settles on her face, “Why didn't you tell me you were selling the shop?”

Nell blinks in surprise, and sighs, “I'm sorry, sweetie. I only made the decision this morning.”

Lana fights to keep a scowl off of her face, “And when were you planning on telling me this?”

Nell shakes her head, confused, “Lana, I don't understand why you're so upset. I mean, you've never shown any interest in this store before and now I'm supposed to consult you?”

Lana inhales deeply, trying to keep calm, “Are you selling the movie theater as well?”

Nell sighs, answering slowly, “Yes, Lana. It's part of the building, after all.”

Lana crosses her arms and squeezes them to her chest, answering in a small voice, “You know how much it means to me.”

Nell smiles wanly at Lana, a look of steel in her eyes,“If I had made business decisions based on sentiment, I would have gone bust a long time ago. Besides, the movie theater's been closed for months now. I'll just sell the building and relocate to a smaller store.”

“There has to be another way. Something you can do.” Lana pleads, eyes tearing up, and Chloe shuffles uncomfortably by the door.

Nell rubs her forehead, “Look, I'm just thinking of our future.”

Lana frowns, tears running down her cheeks, and races outside, pulling Chloe alongside her, Nell yelling apologies as Lana leaves.

“I’m guessing I should find something else to distract my dad with then, yeah?” Chloe rubs shoulders with a tearful Lana, breathing in the fresh air. “Come on,” she says, “You have to help me find something that will blow his mind away, for like, at least a week.”

Lana blinks away her tears, and showing a watery smile at Chloe’s attempt to cheer her up, “I guess. It’s not like we have homework or anything like that to do.”

“That’s right! Who does their homework? Let’s go to the store instead!” Chloe cheers, rushing Lana to her car, “We have a distraction to plan!”

 

* * *

 

Lex stands from his chair and stretches into the air, rubbing at the kinks in his back, a ever growing frown on his face.

He takes his phone out and dials a number, “Paula, you’ll have to delay dinner. I’m going out.”

The woman’s voice agrees, and Lex hangs up already heading towards the door. He needed to visit the Kents.

 

* * *

 

Martha gently dabs at Clark’s forehead, as he fades in and out of consciousness, worry settling in like an allergic rash.

She wrings her hands as he hears him plead, always for Lex and always so terrified and sad.

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart,” She tries to coax him awake, but fails like every other time, kneeling in silence on the floor.

“Knock, knock. I hope I’m not interrupting dinner.” Lex knocked on the screen door, stepping into the Kents house. Worried he moved further in, surprised at Martha’s position, “Martha? Is something the matter?”

Martha turned to look at Lex, relief in her eyes, her hair a mess,“Lex, hi, it’s been a while. You should come over, you’re welcome anytime. And no dinner just yet, we’ve been too worried to eat much at all today.”

“Worried?” Lex shifts and his heart is pierced with worry as he sees the huddled figure on the couch, “What’s wrong with him?” He asks, voice rougher than intended, kneeling down to touch Clark.

“A fever,” Jonathan answers from the porch, shaking the hay off of his jacket.

Martha turns back to Lex, a haggard smile on her face, “Clark’s not one to get sick, but when he does, it’s always a little bit harder.”

Jonathan walks in, closing the screen door behind him, “He’s been sick since yesterday night, we think. Hasn’t gotten too much better, but we’re getting him to drink the medicine at least.”

“Ah,” Lex nods along, stroking Clark’s sweaty forehead, “Are you sure he shouldn’t be in the hospital instead? I could get doct-”

Martha waves her hands, as Jonathan shakes his head, “Please, Lex, it’s fine. It’s just a fever, he doesn’t need to go to the hospital or have you get all those fancy doctors.”

“If you’re sure, Martha, Jonathan. Has he eaten?”

“A little,” Martha says, “It’s tough for him when he wakes up. He’s a bit addled.”

Lex stands, and rubs his head, staring Martha in the eyes, “I need to speak to the both of you about something.” He turns to Jonathan, a grimace on his face, “And I don’t know how well you’ll take it.”

Startled at his seriousness, Jonathan and Martha walk silently to the table and offer Lex a seat, “And just what is it that you need us to talk about, Lex?” Jonathan asks, mouth set in a firm line.

Lex sits on the chair, tense and worried, “It’s about Clark.”

Martha and Jonathan trade a look as Lex’s gaze recedes to the table top.

“What about Clark, Lex?” Martha tries to smile, tries not to crack at the worry ebbing in her gut.

“Clark, he told me something. Something extremely personal, - and I - I don’t know how to take it. This could ruin our friendship, and-” Lex takes a deep breath, looking at both of them, “The last thing I want it to ruin my friendship with Clark. I could count the amount of friends I have on one hand - and, well I know it’s selfish of me, but I don’t want to lose him.”

Jonathan and Martha clasp hands, as Jonathan voice wavers, “And what was this personal thing that Clark told you?”

Lex closes his eyes, trying to forget the way Clark’s lips felt, the way those blue eyes pleaded at him, “He said he loved me.”

He hears Martha’s sharp gasp, and when he opens his eyes, Jonathan sits in stony silence, eyes hard.

“I can’t imagine this is easy for you,” Lex tries to pretend that his voice isn’t trembling, “And I am sorry, I had to tell you this, but I had no one else to go to. No one who wouldn’t judge me so harshly.” Lex steels himself for their shouts, for their anger and their horror. He almost wants it, wants them to throw him out with disgust so that he has a reason to stay away, a reason not to give in.

“Oh,” Martha says breaking the silence, “I didn’t- We didn’t expect this. But I suppose it was coming anyway. I just didn’t think it’d be so soon.”

“What?” Lex snaps, his world tilting to the side.

"Lex,” Jonathan looks at him, “I’m glad you think so highly of your friendship with Clark, and I’m even happier that you came to us because you needed advice. The truth is,” Jonathan hesitates, and gives Lex a sympathetic look, “We knew.”

It’s like a blow to the chest, and Lex almost kneels over even as he sits, “You knew? How did you know? Did he tell you?” Lex begins fret, a strange sort of panic surging through him.

“We figured it out.” Martha and Jonathan smile at each other, hands clasped, “We still love Clark, he’s our son, no matter who he loves, Lex.” Martha smiles at him, “I admit I am surprised he told you and I am sorry if it’s caused you any discomfort-”

Lex slams his hands on the table gently, “He said he loved me. We kissed. It’s- It’s-” Lex tries to explain, but his thoughts are scrambled, calm and focus destroyed.

“You kissed?” Jonathan mutters darkly, and Martha sighs at him.

Lex takes a second to shut his eyes and collect himself, teeming with the urge to scream, “Clark said he loves me, but he’s a teenager. He’ll get over this, right?” Lex looks desperately at Martha and Jonathan, waiting for an answer.

“Of course,” Jonathan says, and Martha balks at his answer, “Jonathan!” she reprimands.

“You said it yourself, Martha, teenagers have crushes on people they admire all the time.”

He looks at Lex, at the worried young man who ran to their doorstep, practically shaking with worry, “Give him some time, Lex. He’ll find someone new to focus on, someone his age. I- Don’t worry about your friendship, Clark won’t be going away anytime soon.”

Martha frowns, but stays silent until Lex stands, smoothing out his coat, “Would you like to stay for dinner, Lex?”

Lex shakes his head, “I can’t. I still have work to finish, I’ve been putting it off all day, and dinner is waiting at home. I’ll be going now,” Lex smiles thinly at them, but they can both see the way his shoulders slump with relief.

“Don’t be a stranger, Lex,” Jonathan claps him on the shoulder, and Martha kisses him on the cheek as goodbye. As soon as Martha pulls away, Lex shoots out of their house like a bat out of hell, and Martha turns to Jonathan, scowling.

“And just why did you tell Lex Luthor that our son would just give up and find someone new to focus on?”

She stared him down and Jonathan sighed, wrapping his arms around Martha and kissing her temple, “Because only we know he’s as stubborn as his mother and will do what it takes to win him over. Maybe he’ll change his mind, and that’s a _big_ maybe, but until the day that happens you know he’ll be set on Lex.”

Martha kisses Jonathan firmly, eyes alight with love, “Damn right he is. I certainly didn’t give up, no matter what my father threw at me, and I know he won’t either. I hope that their friendship survives this.”

“Me too, Honey, me too.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m scared,” Clark holds Barry close, gently running his fingers through his hair in comfort.

“I know, Barry. I’m so sorry.” Clark tries to speak to his dying friend more, but his throat closes up, his vision blurs as tears rolls down his cheeks.

“Promise me, Clark, promise me you’ll take care of Wally, right?”

“I will.” Clark sniffles, not even bothering to put pressure on all the wounds on Barry’s body, knowing it was futile.

“Everyone else is gone. Clark, you have to give them hope.” Barry’s voice cracks as he sobs, then coughs up blood, “Bruce is still out there, trying to find out what happened. But-”

“But?” He whispers, cradling Barry.

“I don’t think he’ll find whoever did this. I- there’s not enough of us. Not anymore. Coast city is in flames, Hal is gone, Gotham is a shit show even with the rest of B’s kids doing what they can. Only you. You can band us together, Clark.” There is a flicker of hope in his eyes, so beautiful and ephemeral, as he stares up at Clark.

“This world, Barry, this world is so broken.” He sobs, stroking Barry’s face. “It has been for a very long time. It took me so long to notice, it wasn’t until Scarecrow killed Lex, that I realized this wasn’t a world I wanted to live in.”

Barry turns to his side gingerly, spewing blood from his lips, eye hooded, “I remember that day, ugh, it was _hell._ Metropolis was under attack and you had to figure out a way to keep everyone alive. Bruce was so mad that Scarecrow wanted to try out Metropolis for a change.”

“I know that. I heard it. I lived it. And I’ll remember it everyday that I live.” Clark wiped his tears away, “I can’t be the good guy anymore. I guess I haven’t been for a very long time now.”

Barry shook his head, the blood loss finally beginning to get to him, “Clark, what are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry, but you have to die. You have to die so that everyone else can-” Clark took a deep breath, “I guess I can stop lying now. You have to die so that Lex can live again.”

Barry’s eyes widen with terror, and he weakly tries to shift his body, “What the hell have you been doing, Clark? Who gave you Red Kryptonite?”

Clark holds Barry firmly in his arms, “No one. This is me, Barry, the _real_ me. I’ve waited so long for the perfect chance and here it is. When you die I’ll harness the speed force, and then the time stream, and if I’m correct, and _very_ lucky, Hypertime will take effect.”

Barry struggled in Clark’s arms, eyes blown wide and blood dripping down to his neck, “You’re insane! No one can handle all of that, no one can change all of what’s happened for one _man_.”

“I will, Barry,” Clark crooned, eyes alight with frenzied hope, “I will and I don’t really appreciate your doubt.”

Clark sighed as Barry spat blood onto his suit, “Even if I die you’ll never be able to change anything. I don’t know what you’ve done, but it’ll all have been for nothing.”

“No, Barry, not with your death _alone_ . But with the rest of this universe? It’ll be more than enough. I am sorry though, that I couldn’t give you a peaceful death. But, _Lex_ , Lex didn’t get one and neither will you or anyone else for that matter.”

“Why?” Barry wheezed.

“Why, what?” Clark stroked Barry’s face, gently coaxing him down.

“Why, Lex Luthor?” Barry cried out, “What made him special? He’s just a villain.”

“You know, he and I used to be childhood friends.” Clark looks up the the starry sky, wistfulness in his voice,“We met when I was still in high school and we were best friends for a while. For years. I loved him but I never acknowledged it. Instead I let the words of others, of my father, and my friends get into my head. I pulled away. I pushed him down that path, the path he was so scared to travel. He never wanted to be like his father, but, I suppose, he saw no other choice. If all anyone ever believes of you is evil, even when you try to do good, then why try to fight it, right?”

Clark reminisced, breathing in the sharp tang of the speed force and Barry continued to bleed out, “I started to wonder what life would’ve been like if I’d stuck by his side. I started to realize that I didn’t hate Lex. I loved him, but I was scared of what he became. I was scared of what _I_ pushed him to be. If I’d just believed in him, we could’ve had the world, we would’ve been the stuff of legends. It’s too late in this universe, but not in the next, not in the _past_.”

“I always knew you loved deeply, Clark, but I never thought you would kill for it.” Barry’s voice quivered, and his heart began to slow.

“I never thought so either. I guess we learn new things about ourselves all the time, Barry. I’ll be seeing you, someday, far into my future. You were always a good friend to me, and I’ll remember that.”

“Fuck you, Clark. I love you, but fuck you.” Barry sobbed, closing his eyes, breath too shallow, and Clark smiled as the Speed Force began to converge.

He was one step closer to his time machine.

 

* * *

 

Martha startles as Clark continues to cry out in terror. A pang of sorrow fills her heart as he continues to call Lex’s name, and all she can do is sit beside him and wait.

“Maybe we should call him.” Jonathan sits at Clark’s feet, gently touching the clammy skin of his feet.

Martha pets his forehead, “You know he needs time, Jonathan. He just came by yesterday to talk with us.”

Jonathan adjusts the blanket over Clark, “I know, Martha, but Clark keeps calling out his name, and clearly he’s not getting any better. He didn’t even wake up last night after we talked with Lex.”

Martha sighs, “Well, it doesn’t hurt to call. Hopefully he’s not too busy.”

Jonathan nods, and gets up heading towards the door, “I need to get started on some chores, we can’t fall behind too much.”

Martha sinks back into the couch, and grabs the phone, dialing Lex’s phone number with pleas on her tongue.

 

* * *

 

Victoria walks in with confidence, layered in red, as she approaches Lex, “Lex you remember Dad.”

Lex walks to her and offers a hand to shake, smile plastered to his face, “Sir Harry.” He briefly looks at Victoria, “Victoria, I've been waiting 45 minutes.”

Harry chuckles, a smirk on his face, “Oh, we were closing a deal.”

Lex swished his drink around, “The city of Metropolis is giving you the recycling contract?”

Victoria smiles coyly at him,  “Lex, you seem upset.”

He turns away from the both of them, “If this is the level of respect you show your business partners, I'm beginning to wonder if I made the right decision.”

Harry smirk grows, and he waddles closer to Lex, with a disgusting nonchalance, “You see, Lex, it doesn't really matter. The deal is off.”

Lex raises an eyebrow, “I'm sorry, I thought it was your life's ambition to crush my father.”

Harry shrugs, “No, that's your ambition. Mine is to take over LuthorCorp.”

Lex clenches his jaw, “How do you plan to do that without my shares?”

Harry sits on a chair, and reclines comfortably, “Have you heard of Cadmus Labs?”

Lex pretends to be shocked and grips his glass tighter, looking at Victoria, “I've been researching them for about a year.”

Smugly, Harry says, “Well, your research has just paid off. I bought them, oh, about an hour ago.”

Lex frowns, “And with the profits you'll reap from their patents, you'll buy LuthorCorp outright.”

Harry grins at him widely, rising from the chair and leaving, “Tell your father I said hello. Come on, we have work to do.” He motions for Victoria to follow but she hesitates looking at Lex.

“Congratulations.” He whispers, passing Victoria, “I hope it was worth it.”

He leaves his glass on a table on the way out, a vicious smile growing on his face, another pawn off the chess table.

 

* * *

 

“Clark, come on, you have to wake up. You’re worrying your parents.” Lex shakes Clark’s shoulders, and whispers in his ear, “You’re worrying me.”

Martha wrings her hands, rubbing at the counters desperately as if it would help Clark wake up, “I’m sorry, Lex. We thought you could help, that maybe he would wake up, but he doesn’t look any different.”

Lex frowned as Clark continued to sleep restlessly. “He needs to go to the hospital, Martha. He’s been sick for three days, it’s not _normal_.”

Martha shakes her head, paling, “Clark is strong. He’ll-”

Lex strokes Clark’s face, as twisted in pain as it is, “I don’t know what is so different about him, Martha and right now I don’t care. He needs help, _professional_ help, and he’s not going to get any better laying on this couch.”

Martha pauses staring at Lex in surprise, “I’ll go ask Jonathan, we’ll talk, you’ll watch over him?”

“I will.”

Martha leaves, heading towards the barn, and Lex looks blankly at Clark.

He runs a finger down Clark’s lips, squeezing them, stiffening when he hears Clark sob out his name.

Shaking, he presses a kiss to his forehead, trying to deafen his ears as the calls get more and more desperate.

“ _Clark,_ ” he says, “I’m right here. Wake up.”

As Clark sniffles, eyes screwed tight, Lex leans over, close enough for nose to touch Clark’s.

“I feel rather stupid,” he muses to an unconscious Clark, “But I suppose love makes everyone a fool.”

He closes his eyes, laying a gentle kiss on Clark’s chapped lips. Groaning, he pulls back, and stands to sit away from the temptation that is Clark.

“Clark, if you don’t wake up, I swear to god I’ll marry Victoria.”

Clark whimpers in his sleep, body craning upwards, and Lex reels back as Clark begins to float.

“Martha!” Lex runs to the door, yelling for the Kents, “Martha, Jonathan, something’s happening to Clark.”

Martha and Jonathan come bursting out of the barn, towards the house and Lex flattens himself to the wall as Clark continues to float.

“Oh my god, Clark, sweetheart, what is happening?”

Jonathan grabs Lex’s shoulder, voice gruff, “Now do you see why we can’t go to the hospital?”

Lex nods blankly, staring in wonder as Clark defies the laws of physics. “What happened to him?”

Jonathan shakes his head, “He said something about lightning, but he passed out before we could find out more.”

Martha looks Lex up and down nervously, “I thought that maybe he could’ve been struck by lightning. That whole forest is full of meteor rock and well, you know how strange that rock makes everything.”

Lex sighs, “So, all we have to go off of is that Clark is floating, because maybe lightning struck him and the meteor rock is somehow related?”

Martha and Jonathan both nod in tandem, worried out of their minds.

Lex runs a hand over his head, “And,” he pauses looking to Martha and Jonathan, “What if we recreate the scenario, assuming we are correct?”

Martha and Jonathan gape, “You want us to strike our son with electricity and meteor rocks to see if he’ll wake up?”

“No,” Jonathan crosses his arms, “That is going too far. It could kill him.”

“Jonathan! Lightning kills people too-”

“Look, Jonathan, I’m not saying this to be purposely cruel, but the lightning didn’t kill him, and right now, the only two variables we know about are lightning and meteor rocks which made him this sick. Now you can one, keep him here, waiting to see if he gets better, two, check him into a hospital and have the doctors check him out, or three, try-” Lex sighs, “Try to run an electrical current through him with some meteor rock nearby.”

Lex turns to them, frowning, “What’s it going to be?

 

* * *

 

Chloe enters the old theater whistling at the dust in the air, idly fussing with her camera. She smiles as she sees Lana come down the stairs, “Hey! So what happened to let's do our homework together and make fun of _Austin Powers_? I doubt this old place would be able to run it,” she says knocking on a pillar.

Lana turns her head and smiles back, “Sorry, I got a bit caught up in memories.” She sighs and looks around the theatre soaking in its dusty and withered appearance. “My parents met here. My dad worked the concession stand during college and my mom came to see _‘Close Encounters’_. Apparently, she got bored.”

A confused look ghosted over Chloe’s face, “How do you get bored watching _‘Close Encounters’_? Can you imagine how cool it would be to know that there was alien life outside of earth?”

Lana laughed and shrugged her shoulders, walking to give Chloe a hug, “I don't know. Maybe she had a thing against aliens. I guess she must’ve not been into Star Trek either.”

“Say it ain’t so, Lana, say it ain’t so,” Chloe teased, hugging her back.

They broke apart from their hug quickly, and Lana continued talking, lost in memory, “She hung out in the lobby and spent the entire night talking to my dad. They'd only been a few years apart in high school, yet they never really noticed each other and then that night, they just _clicked_.”

Lana threw her hands up, and tried to wipe away the tears that were forming, “I know it sounds crazy and probably stupid, but I feel like the tangible evidence I have of my parents' existence is being taken from me.”

Chloe shoved Lana, playfully, “What do you mean? Take a scrape off the wall, steal some wallpaper, I doubt anyone would miss anything from here, or notice. And besides, you’re still here aren’t you?”

Lana sniffled and choked up at the goofy look on Chloe’s face, “You're right. How did you find me anyway?”

“I dropped by your place and Nell told me you were here. I need some help with English, because, and hey,-” Chloe pouts at Lana, “-Are you scowling at me? I was too busy thinking about articles to write about for the Torch. Don’t look at me that way, Lana, I swear I’m in the middle of a dry spell.”

Lana pokes at Chloe’s sides, “You can borrow my notes, buuuut-”

“But what?” Chloe says, eyes narrowing.

Lana wags her eyebrows smugly, “You have to help me scrape some wallpaper off in exchange. And maybe we can see if any of the other furniture is salvageable. _Free_ vintage.”

Chloe pretended to groan, “Just don’t let there be any asbestos in here. Where’s the putty knife? Am I going to have to go all the way to the hardware store?”

Lana jaunts over the the concession table and pulls a putty knife out from one of the glass cases, waving it at Chloe.

“Yay,” Chloe says sarcastically, “Scraping wallpaper off the walls, the career I’ve always wanted.”

Lana leans on her elbows, smiling widely, “I always knew you were cut out to be a re-modeler.”

 

* * *

 

Clark wakes up to pain, his limbs electrified and throbbing, desperately gasping for air, the smog in his head unwilling to clear.

“Ma? Dad? What happened?” Clark felt himself careering to the side, eyes too heavy to keep open, and he sagged to the bar floor.

The loose hay ticked his nose but he was too tired to care, a buzz filling his ears. Slowly he opened his eyes, as warm hands shook him, unwilling to let him go back to sleep.

“Lemme sleep, please, I’m tired.” He slurred, as the hands continued to shake him. Blankly staring at the people he loved.

The buzzing got louder and then cut out all at once, voices taking its place.

“Clark, sweetheart, please tell me you’re okay?”

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Jonathan yells to someone he can’t see, and then turns his panicked face to him, “Son, can you hear me? Can you hear us?”

“I-” Clark winced as he felt his brain thunder against his skull, “Can you please stop shaking me?”

The hands abruptly stop and Clark realizes with a slow clarity that they belong to his mother, pulling him close to squeeze the air out of him.

“Ma,” Clark opens his mouth to speak, the dryness of his mouth unsettling him, “Why am I in the barn?”

“You were out for days, son, we didn’t know what to do.” He hears his father talk, but it hurts too much to turn his head, so he stays nestled in his mother’s arms.

“I-I have to go,” the third voice, says, relief evident, “I have business in Metropolis.”

Clark whimpers, as his mother helps him stand, and he sees Lex’s shadowed back turned to him and heading out of the barn.

“Lex,” he tries to say, feeling like his mouth is coated in sandpaper.

“Lex,” he struggles to yell at the figure that continues walking out of sight, tongue far too tired to make the right noises.

“Come on, son, you can talk to Lex later, we have to get some food in you now.”

Clark groans as his parents try to move his body, arms wrapped around his waist and shoulders, “No, I need to see-”

“Come on, sweetheart,” Martha coaxes him, “Lex needs some time to think things through. You can talk to him over the phone, or when he decides to drop by.” Martha tries to smile at him but all Clark can do is stare and wobbly begin walking towards the house, his parents at his side.

Laying fitfully on the couch, he watches his mother ready some soup as Jonathan begins tucking him in with a soft blanket, “Ma,” he says, voice hoarse and cracking, “Do you think Lex will ever talk to me again?”

Pausing, Jonathan frowns, before kissing the crown of his head and looking towards his wife.

Martha hurries towards Clark with a warm bowl of soup, and settles it down on the coffee table before kneeling down to look at her son.

“What makes you think he would ever stop?” She places a kiss to his temple, “I remember you told me yourself that he said your friendship was going to be the stuff of legends. Don’t you start worrying about that now, Clark Jerome Kent, you hear me? You focus on getting better and when you’re better, _talk_ it out with him. Every good relationship needs communication, alright?”

“You’re our son, and I know you’re different, and I know you’re more mature, but just because all of these things make you different,-” Jonathan cuts himself off sighing as Martha begins to feed Clark soup, “-It doesn’t mean you can’t make the same mistakes everyone else is. Your mother and I appreciate that you’ve gotten more mature, that you’ve come into yourself so...confidently but we worry.”

Jonathan smiles wryly, “Don’t give me that look, son, I know what you’re thinking, oh they’ll always worry, but...maybe your confession,” Jonathan clears his throat, “It wasn’t something your relationship was ready for, no matter how ready _you_ were. It takes two to tango, son, and Lex isn’t in that mindset.”

Clark nods, clearly downtrodden as Martha continues to coax him to eat. “We’re happy you tried, Clark, that you felt safe enough to do so, but maybe next time with more caution, with more _time_.” Martha says lifting the spoon to his mouth.

Clark’s eyes shine with tears, that soon enough roll down his cheeks and all Clark does is sit in silence and let his mother feed him, feeling a heavy sense of defeat.

_Would Lex ever speak to him again?_

 

* * *

 

Lex walks into the room confidently, aware enough to keep the smirk off his face, “I got an urgent call saying you wanted to see me?”

Harry sits hunched over himself, hands clasped together, and Victoria curled up at his side, “How'd you do it, Lex?”

“Do what?” He asks as if he hadn’t been the reason for their downfall.

Harry looks at him nervously, clearly shaken, “Cadmus Labs, it's worthless.”

“I know,” Lex says not bothering to hide his smugness, “Maybe you should have done your homework. Now you've left yourself open for a hostile takeover.”

He briefly relishes at Victoria’s betrayed face, as she defends herself, “I read the report, Daddy.”

“You mean that little piece of fiction you stole off my computer?” He shoots back, raising in eyebrow in mock incredulity.

Harry barely looks at Victoria, “This your idea of having it covered?”

As Harry passes by him, Lex says, “That's what you get for trusting _family_. We’ll be making an offer on your company in the morning. I'll tell him you said hello. Surely he’d be delighted to hear from you, Sir Harry.”

Lex watches as Harry leaves, and Victoria approaches him, all red and anger.

“How could you do this to me, Lex?” She looks at him with barely masked betrayal.

Lex fixes his tie, and stares her down, “You did it to yourself, Victoria. Did you really think you could make your bones with Daddy by taking me down?”

Victoria grits her teeth, “It was just business.”

Lex raises his eyebrows, looking her up and down, “You call sleeping with me business? A shame really, what that makes you.”

Lex takes a step back as she reaches to slap him, hitting only air.

“We could have been great together.” She says, lips trembling, eyes pleading.

Lex sighs, and his lips purse, “You’re not the one I plan on being great with Victoria. You know for a time I planned on being great by myself, but recently I’ve come to a new _understanding_ , if you will. Anyhow, you’d better check on your dad. He didn't look well.”

Lex watches triumphant and smug, as Victoria Hardwick stomps out of the room and his life, already eager to burn all the tulips in his home in one big bonfire.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Clark, how are you feeling?” Lana sits at his side, and Chloe hangs on her shoulders like a limpet, “I’d never thought I’d see the day that Clark Kent has a cold and gets sick.” Chloe teases him.

“Well-,” Clark coughs, “-It’s a little bit late in the season, but what can you do? Ma and Dad were really thrown out of left field, too. I don’t get sick often but when I do it always sucks.”

“That’s life,” Chloe says, grabbing a cookie off of the table, “I got your homework by the way. At least for the classes I have with you. I’m afraid neither Lana or I have home-ec, so you’re on your own there.”

Lana smiles, and checks him over again, “Do you want us to get you anything? You don’t look like you should be standing any time soon, if I’m honest.”

“A glass of water, please. Ever since I woke up it feels like I swallowed sand whole.”

“Gross.” Chloe scrunches her face, “By the way, if I get sick from being too close, you’re gonna get it, Mister. I have the Torch to edit and I can’t do anything if I’m laid up in bed, _dying_.”

Lana rolls her eyes as she stands to get Clark a glass of water, “Ignore her. She’s just feeling put out because I made her scrape some wallpaper off of the wall. You think you’d be more interested in theatre, Chloe.”

“Yeah, if it was _haunted_ . How does Smallville not have _one_ haunted building? _Save_ me, Clark, my well is running high and dry out of ideas. I’m actually considering writing about the coffee menu at the Beanery.”

Clark snorts as Lana hands him a glass of water and gratefully takes a deep drink. “You and Lex both. I swear, if I have to see him nonverbally complain about the quality of the coffee again I am going to lose it. You’d think he’d just quit drinking coffee but _no_ , he keeps coming _back._ ”

Lana shakes her head, trying to quell her smile as Chloe bursts into laughter, “Lex Luthor doesn’t like the coffee, who woulda thought? I see him there so often I thought he loved it.”

Clark talks in between sips of water, “It’s the only coffee place in town, Chloe. He must die a little every time he takes a drink.”

Lana snickers, and snag’s a cookie off of the table, “Amen to that. Once you’ve tried the gourmet coffee in Metropolis it’s hard to go back.”

“So, Clark, have you talked to Pete lately?”

Clark sits on the couch and leans back heavily, “ _No,_ ” he gripes, “Last time I tried to talk to him, calmly and rationally, I might add, he practically blew up in my face.”

Chloe sighs and rubs his back, “You guys know I love Pete like my own brother, but Lex is my friend too. And I feel like Pete has to grow up. Lex is not his father, Pete is not his father or his uncle, and it happened twelve years ago. I just wish that even if he hated the Luthors he would see that Lex isn’t like that.”

Lana nods along to Clark’s words, “Well to be honest, none of us have really hung out with him, you know? We don’t exactly run in the same circles.”

“We’ll get around to it, Lana.” Chloe says, munching on her cookie, “I talked with him a little bit when everything was going down with Kyle and he seemed pretty chill.”

“Well, pretty chill can have a lot of  different angles, Chloe.” Lana pops the last of her cookie in her mouth as chews.

“Thanks for the company, guys, and for trying to give Lex a chance. I know it’s all a little bit out there at the moment.”

Lana pats Clark’s hair, “We’re your friends, Clark, and we want to see what you see in him, too.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Chloe cuts in, “We want to know what it is about Lex Luthor that has Clark Kent hyper focused.”

A shrill ring interrupts the giggles and Clark’s hiding behind the couch pillows, and Lana looks to her phone and groans, “We have to get going. Nell is busy cleaning shop and we have homework to do.”

Clark leans back, taking a small bite out of a cookie, “Have fun. Remember me. Don’t leave me here to die, alone, sick, and queasy.”

Chloe and Lana make a face, hurrying out of the door as he mentions being queasy.

Laughing Clark hears Chloe shriek as they pack into her car, “Don’t throw up everywhere, think of the innocents, Clark! See you later!”

Groaning, Clark rests his head on the couch rest and falls into an uneasy sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Lex shrugs off his suit jacket and hangs it on the chair, phone already dialing into the quiet of his study. Sitting back onto his chair, he talks to Lionel on speaker phone.

“Hello, Dad.” He speaks with false cheer, “How's business?”

Lionel sounds slightly happier than the normal curt he usually was, “Tomorrow the Daily Planet is announcing our takeover of Sir Harry's company.”

“Did I merit a mention?” He crosses his legs, head leaning back and looking at the high ceiling.

“Third paragraph. That's what happens when you trust your family, Lex. I'm proud of you.” Lionel speaks the words as lava comes flowed from his throat, and Lex tries to squash the happiness he feels at hearing such words from his father.  

“Thanks, Dad,” he says, not letting an emotional infliction seep out into his words, “That means a lot coming from you.” He hangs up the phone quickly, and Hugh enters, sweating nervously as he always does.

“Mr. Luthor,” he stutters, “Has the program proven satisfactory?”

“Yes, Hugh,”Lex smirks looking at his hands, “And what did you bring for me tonight?”

He gives Lex a large manilla envelope, and Lex opens it promptly, staring at the photos in disgust, “Nice picture quality. Who initiated this little encounter?”

“Well..” Hugh trails off, gulping.

Lex’s eyes narrow, a tick in his jaw, “Victoria?”

“Your father, sir.”

“I see,” Lex says, and then, “Leave, Hugh you’re not needed at the moment. Oh and tell the maids that they can get rid of all the tulips, either take them or burn them. Also, have Chloe Sullivan get in touch with me, I have a project I want to work with her on.” Hugh nods and half jogs out of the study, and Lex is lost in thoughts.

He rubs the curve of his head, uneasy and frustrated, wishing Clark were by his side yet half a world away. It was one thing to love a friend, it was another to love a _partner_.

He tried not to acknowledge the surge of happiness when Clark confessed to him, but it was hard to deny, to let go of. For all he wanted to say yes, he knew it would come with far more consequences than he would be willing to pay, than he _could_ pay.

He loved Clark, but did he love him enough to rip away his mask and show him the truth?

Did he want to put his trust in Clark who had barely seen the world and thought he was the pinnacle of it?

Lex ground his teeth together, and grabbed the phone dialing Hamilton’s phone number, “Have you found anything new?”

On the other side of the phone, Hamilton coughed, “No. I haven’t. Studies like this need their time, Mr. Luthor, I won’t get all of the answers right away.”

“Very well. Tell me as soon as you find anything. I want you to start collecting meteor rocks, and keep them contained and isolated.”

“The EPA said-”

“I know what the EPA said, Dr. Hamilton, but I need answers and I won’t find them waiting in some book or lying on the side of the road. Use the money I gave you and give me what I want to know.”

Lex withheld a yawn and quickly hung up the phone, grabbing his coat on the way out and stepping into the warm night.

 

* * *

 

“Are you feeling better now?”

Clark uncurled from his seat and smiled wanly at Lex as he climbed the stairs to the loft.

“Some. Not feeling very hungry, but Ma thinks my appetite will come back with time.”

Lex smiles at him, warmer and more sincere than Clark has seen in a while, “I’m glad, spaceman,” he teases.

Clark’s eyes go wide and a harsh cough escapes his lungs, “Spaceman? Lex, what? Did they-”

Lex carefully claps Clark on the shoulder and quickly pulls away, smiling thinly at him, looking him up and down, “You were floating.”

Lex leans in close to his ear, and his whisper tickles, “I have so many questions, Clark. I almost don’t want to wait any longer.”

Clark’s breath hitches, and he swallows thickly, looking towards the book with his key in it.

“You’re not the only one with questions, Lex. My parents were freaked to say the least. Not like in a bad way but...they were surprised.”

“And these questions, do you happen to know any of the answers?” Lex pulls back and walks across the room, towards the bookshelf.

He grabs a random book on the shelf and flips through it, idly skimming the pages, “Because, Clark, it seems that every time I try to look into something, somehow, you’re there.” He puts the book down and looks Clark in the eyes, “A person who saw a an indestructible blur or one who faintly remembers a boy asking about a meteor freak _before_ they became the meteor freak. Tell me, Clark, are you the epicenter?”

Clark gapes as Lex stares him down, “What? Lex, how could you think that? What makes you think I would want any of this to happen? To innocent people, to Smallville, to my friends and my _parents_?!”

Clark makes a show of taking a deep breath, and shaking his head, “I know things, that _you_ said you didn’t want to know.”

Lex crosses his arms, “I still don’t.”

Clark frowns,“Even if it answers a lot of your questions, about Smallville, about the meteor rocks,” Clark steps closer, almost nose to nose with Lex, “About me?”

He sees the vein in Lex’s temple faintly throb, the sound of Lex’s heartbeat pounding like a war drum.

“Even then. I need to find the answers myself, Clark.”

“What if you get to the wrong conclusion?” Clark pauses and his gaze softens, “I don’t want you to get hurt or-”

“Smallville is my home now, Clark.” Lex grabs his hands and squeezes them, “Even if you hadn’t been at my side like  you are now, I would’ve wanted to find the truth, no matter what.”

Clark nods, aching to hold Lex, “If you ever need anything, you know where I am, Lex.”

“I do.” Lex lets go of his hands, squeezing his own into fists, “When I’m ready Clark, I want to know _everything_.”

He gives Clark a searing look, and Clark’s heart flutters as Lex bounds down the stairs and out of the barn. Clark crosses the loft and gingerly grabs the Key with his shirt, tracing the symbols with a hint of fondness.

“I wonder, father, if mother is there with you too,” He looks at the key deeply and blinks back tears, “If she always has been.”

Clark glances longingly at the key before putting it back into the book and shoving it into the bookshelf.

“It’s too early, still, Éú, Ukr, for you to awaken. Soon Lex will know the truth, _all_ of the truth and together we will fight Zod and Brainiac."

“Worry not,” Clark speaks to the stars and sky, eyes looking towards Rao as it explodes, light years away, “Together we will protect this planet. This time we will embody, _El-Mayarah_.”


	10. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe bites her lip and hesitates before turning back to face Lex Luthor, "I'll do it," she says, and they shake hands.
> 
> “I am sorry I was rash in deciding you weren’t a good person and I was wondering if you would forgive me?” Lana looks to Lex Luthor, wondering what he will make of her words.
> 
> "Lex will barely talk to me unless I’m in mortal danger or he’s accusing me of being the epicenter of all this Smallville weirdness!” Clark rips apart a log with his bare hands, nostrils flaring with anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Appears two weeks late with a chapter* I am not as sorry as I should be, but wow for some reason this chapter was a real pain in the ass to finish! I just could not get it right and it was driving me insane! Add to that an overdose of procrastination, and it was just terrible! I will do better and hopefully have the next chapter out in a week! (Promise, really)
> 
> Also, the distance between Clark and Lex is killing me guys, (and I'm the one who writes it) idk how the heck you guys are faring. I just want them to make up, but haha, making up is for people who don't love drama and episodic tension. 
> 
> Thank you guys for all the kudos, and lovely comments, I will respond as soon as I get this chapter out!!! <3 Much love to you all and I hope you like it enough to leave a comment!!!

“It’s been a while, since I’ve last seen you.

And the distance,

And laughter,

Between us has never been farther.”

 

* * *

 

Chloe tapped a pen onto her clipboard full of questions, “Are you ready now, Clark?”

Clark blinks at her, and shuffles behind the camera, shifting the camera to focus on both Chloe and Lex, “Yeah. I forgot to press the record button on the camera. At least the outtakes will be good.”

Chloe smiles for a second before becoming serious, as Lex hides his smile in his hands, “So, Mr. Luthor. Are there anymore secret construction projects going on at LuthorCorp like Level 3?”

Lex raises an eyebrow at Chloe, “Please, call me Lex.”

“Okay, _Lex_. Are you going to answer or deflect my question?” Chloe gives him a pointed look and Lex swallows a look of amusement.

“Chloe...” Clark makes a cut it out gesture as she looks back to him, looking him up and down.  

“What? The people of Smallville deserve to know.”

Lex smirks, “It's okay,” Lex glances at Clark for a second,  “It’s a fair question and worry among the Smallville community. Our critics are our friends, they show us our faults, and I certainly can’t blame you for critiquing can I?”

Chloe gave him a blase look, “Benjamin Franklin. Now back to the question please?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Luthor. Your father's on the phone.” The servant peered curiously at the camera and Chloe, as Lex sighed, waiting for him to step out.

Standing from his chair, “I need to get this. I'll take it in the conservatory, Paul.” Then Lex smiled down at Chloe, “I look forward to resuming our verbal judo, I could always use some constructive criticism.”

As Lex left, Chloe huffed into the silent office, “Well, that’s one way to avoid a question. I wonder if he even wanted to do the interview.”

“Relax, Chloe.” Clark said, sitting comfortably on the couch, “He’ll come back, and it’s not like you can’t ask for a follow up, he’s only at the Beanery every other day.”

Chloe snorted and began looking at the pottery on the shelves. “Wow. That's really cool. Do you think it's real?”

Clark hangs his head upside down to look at Chloe, “Totally. Lex could probably tell you a story about every piece of furniture he has in here.”

“If I ever need help in history I know where I’m coming.” Chloe smiles at him, and sits at the chair in front of Lex’s desk.

Clark stretches at moves towards Chloe, counting down the minutes until Wade and the others teleported into the Manor.

“You could go check on him? Maybe talk to some of the staff and see what it’s like working here. Get another source on Lex Luthor, you vile reporter, you.”

Chloe bursts into laughter, wagging her brows at him, pen and notepad in hand, as soon as he started talking, “Don’t break the camera, and you’d better keep him distracted if he comes back early.”

“Lets see if I can find any staff...” He hears Chloe mutter as she walks out of the room and out of danger.

“The kitchen is a couple hallways down, and to the left, Chloe.” He yells to her, sticking his head out of the door, and she gives him a huge thumbs up, before running off.

Clark sighs and grabs one the fireplace poker, readying himself to swing, gripping it tightly.

Wade and the others appear in an instant, facing the vault and behind them Clark brings down the iron to their necks, with just enough power to make them fall unconscious.

He freezes as he sees another masked man look at him, then run for his life.

He can hear the cursing as he follows, running at a human speed, and then stopping as the man runs into Chloe and holds her in a choke hold.

He looks panicked at Clark, as Chloe struggles in his hold, squeezing her tighter and tighter.

Clark holds his hands up in a gesture of peace, “Let her go, okay? We can resolve this-”

The man hesitates for a moment and then screams as Chloe bites down into his arm. He winces in pain, and trips, taking Chloe with him, down and out of the window, the stained glass shattered around them like blood.

“Chloe,” Clark screams, staring in surprise as Chloe stares up at him before falling unconscious.

 

* * *

 

Clark hovers near Chloe’s hospital bed, looking at her bone fractures with his x-ray vision, when Lex comes in and gently touches his shoulder, “I brought in the best doctors from Metropolis.”

Clark meets Lex’s eyes for just a second before looking away, “Is she gonna be alright?”

Lex stares at Chloe, still unconscious and arm bound in a cast, “The doctors say she’ll make a full recovery, the man, the _robber_ took most of the fall damage. They say she was really lucky. If anything else had happened she could’ve hit the floor first with a 245 pound man behind her. The left arm is broken and they think she has a concussion, but want her to wake up naturally before checking. They need to make sure there’s no brain swelling, before they can let her out.”

Clark nods firmly, and wipes a tear from his eyes, “I don’t know how it happened. One minute the room is empty and then they appear out of thin air. Have the police gotten anything on them?”

Lex sighs, and they walk into the hallway, “They say I was the first to _almost_ get robbed. The others assuredly did. The police said there were over a dozen of these robberies all over the county.”

Lex stares at him, “This gang somehow got into my house without busting a lock or tripping an alarm. If you hadn’t been there, with my fireplace poker I would be without some...keepsakes.”

Flashing his a smile, they sit on uncomfortable chairs, “The police managed to get some confessions out of some of the lesser thugs with promises of a lighter sentence. They said one of _my_ employee’s told them where my safe was. I am in the process of doing a very thorough household staff inspection, and the police are processing these guys as the confessions fall from their lips and booking them into the jail. They’re on a 24/7 watch considering no one know how they just manage to ‘appear out of thin air.’”

“Well,” Clark takes a deep breath, “I’m glad I learned how to swing after all. Sorry I just left them laying there. But the other guy ran off and then he grabbed Chloe...”

“Don’t even worry about it, Clark.” Lex makes to hold his hand, but pulls away at the last second, offering him a thin smile instead, “I don't care about that. I’m just happy you got out alive, after taking on _three_ guys with a _poker_. They could’ve been armed, Clark.”

Clark grumbles, “They had giant bags, were wearing black masks and as soon as they popped in they started talking about your vault. I don’t know how they were going to open it or get inside I just started swinging.” Clark ducked his head sheepishly.

“Thank you, Clark, but take care of _yourself_ more.” Shaking his head, Lex says, “I don’t even want to know the heart attack  your parents had when you called them telling them you were late because you had to give a police report. I promise they’ll be prosecuted to the full extent of the law for what they did to Chloe.” _And then some_ , Lex thought, frowning at the close call.

“Now, why don’t you go home and get some rest? You were up late last night too, Clark. You need sleep.”

Clark grumbles but does not protest much as Lex hauls him up and leads him towards his car, “The doctors will call as soon as she wakes up. Both you and me. Now get in, and try not to drool all over the leather would you?”

 

* * *

 

Lana bustles out of Nell’s shop then stares as Whitney walks right past her. She frowns for a moment before going to grab his shoulder, “Whitney! Hey, wait up!”

Lana smiles brightly as he looks down to her, “I haven’t seen you around much, what’s going on?”

Whitney barely glances at her before apologizing, mind elsewhere, “I’ve...been busy with the store. Not much time for anything else, Lana.”

Whitney clears his throat, and changes the subject, “I heard Chloe’s in the hospital. How’s she doing?”

Lana raises her eyebrows at his deflection but answers anyway, “Better. The doctors say there’s no brain swelling but she’s not out of the woods. She hasn’t woken up yet, but Clark said he’d keep me updated if anything changed.”

 Whitney sighs and rubs at his eyes, “I hope she gets better. Listen, I’ve got to go. I need to do inventory.”

 Lana jumps in front of him to prevent him from leaving, “Can you at least talk to me? I want to know what’s wrong, Whitney. You’re my friend, and I want to help you.”

 Whitney shakes his head, and moves around her, even as her fingers try to grasp him.

 “I don’t need your help, Lana.” He says walking out of her reach.

 All Lana can do is stare as he walks away.

 

* * *

 

Martha enters the barn quietly, looking at her son chop firewood like a mad man, “Hi, Sweetheart. What are you doing?”

Clark barely turns to look at her and grumbles out loud, “Trying to make myself useful.”

Jonathan follows in after Martha and sighs, “Hey, son, I think you forgot that Lex brang you home so you could rest. How are you doing?”

Clark grits his teeth, and continues chopping wood, “Chloe’s in the hospital because I couldn’t just let her find out my secret. And Lex will barely talk to me unless I’m in mortal danger or he’s accusing me of being the epicenter of all this Smallville weirdness!”

Clark foregoes the axe and rips logs apart with his bare hands, in a snit if his parents had ever seen one, “I am _clearly_ not having the best week.”

 The wood clatters to the floor, and Clark frowns turning to his parents, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s not your guys fault any of this happened.” 

Jonathan and Martha blink as he apologizes and then continues muttering to himself, “Just my own _stupid_ -”

Martha steps closer to her son and wraps him in a hug, “Don’t blame yourself for being scared to trust, Sweetheart. We certainly have our part in it. Yes, Chloe got hurt, but you can’t blame yourself for the actions others take.”

 “I could’ve done something.” He says into her shoulder, and then under his breath, “If I’d just been more careful-”

Jonathan paces the barn, hay crunching beneath his work boots, “son, becoming an adult means learning a lot of difficult lessons. One of which is you can't save everybody, no matter who you are. I know you thought that maybe you could save Chloe,” He sighs, “But truth is, in the heat of the moment, things won’t always be so clear. At the end of the day, Clark, we want you _safe_.”

 “What does it matter if I’m safe if everyone one else around me-”

 “You’re our son,” Martha says, patting his head, “And no matter your powers, no matter how different they make you, you don’t owe this world a damn thing. This saving people thing, Clark? You don’t need to do it, but you do because you’re a good person. And a good person doesn’t just stand by when they have the power to make things better.” 

Jonathan smiles at Martha and Clark, “We want you to be safe, and happy, and while we would love it if you could also help the people that are in trouble, we understand that it won’t always be possible to save everyone and keep your secrets, son.”

Clark sniffles into his mother’s shoulder, “Best parents ever.”

Martha and Jonathan burst into laughter, the somber mood evaporating, “You only tell us that every week, sweetheart.”

Clark and Martha brake apart, and Clark looks towards the loft. Hesitation lingering at the edges if his actions, “I-I have something to show you. Something I found.”

Martha and Jonathan climb the stairs behind Clark as he beckons them up into the loft.

Clark grabs the book from his bookshelf and then a dusty rag, opening it to show the hexagonal key inside.

“What is it?” Martha asks, curiously looking at the metal hexagon..

“I don’t know.” Clark lies, “But it was calling to me. I don’t even know what the symbols say.”

Clark watches with interest as his parents trade a look, “Well, son, you know that your spaceship never properly worked. After the day we brought you home, we never saw or heard it make any noises.”

“We checked all over it for some type of power switch,” Martha says, remembering their frantic need for answers, “But we couldn’t find anything.”

“The only thing, that we thought was weird was a little hexagonal groove in the ship.” Jonathan looks at the hexagon, and then back to his son, “You said it called to you. Maybe it’s time for you to find out where you’re really from.”

Clark’s hand hovers over the key, and he swallows harshly before pulling away, “I can’t. Not now. It- It doesn’t _feel_ right, but I had to tell you guys. I didn’t know what it was for or-”

“It’s alright, son. Just know that no matter what planet you’re from, I don’t know, Mars or Venus or maybe somewhere farther, we’ll always love you. It’s fine if you’re not ready.” Jonathan claps him on the shoulder, and they smile at each other.

“Clark Jerome Kent, did you maul that book to hide that thing in there?” Clark winces at the stern tone in his mother's voice, “I didn’t know where to put it. We don’t exactly have a vault or anything. And it’s not like anyone actually looks at the books I have, Ma. I can always play it off as a paperweight.”

 Martha frowns as Clark’s eyes plead for leniency, “You respect your belongings and-” She stops looking at him to continue.

 Clark hands his head and grumbles, “And the belongings of others, else you find yourself without a shoe to hide a penny. I know, Ma, and I’m sorry.”

"Good,” Martha kisses his forehead, “Now hide it and hide it well. Or wrap it in some paper. Then get to rest, you hear me? You didn’t go to sleep until three am, you need to get to bed.”

Clark turned to his father, pleas on his lips, but Jonathan only shook his head, as he followed Martha down the stairs, “Listen to your mother, son. She knows what’s right.”

Clark exhales sharply through his nose and slams the book shut, shoving it into the bookshelf before curling up in his lumpy armchair, smiling as soon as his parents leave the barn.

“Parents,” he mutters, but the smile never leaves his face.

 

* * *

 

Lana watches as Nell packs away old and semi useful things into boxes, eyes passing over the big scrape of wallpaper she and Chloe had managed to rip off of the walls.

Taking a deep breath of dusty air, Nell coughs, “I had no idea I still had so much stuff in here. Would you hand me the tape please?”

“Yeah.” Lana answers, passing her the sticky duct tape,“I still can't believe you're selling this place, Nell.” She tries not to sound too accusatory, but judging by the look on Nell’s face, she’d failed.

Nell sighs, and runs a dusty hand through her hair, “And _I_ can't believe your _sudden_ interest in the place.”

“My parents met here. Aunt Nell,” She looks her Aunt in the eyes, not backing down, “This place means a lot to me. It should mean a lot to you too.”

Nell’s jaw clenches as Lana begins to clock her with emotional ties, “I know, Lana.” She says, voice deep and sad, “But one screen can't compete with a modern screen with multiple rooms.”

She points to the old player, right in the back of where the audience would sit, “Look at this, it still plays old reels! I want to be able to send you to any college you want and I can’t do that if I don’t sell this place, Lana.”

Lana tries not to feel moved at her Aunt’s declaration, desperately grasping for purchase, “Could you at least tell me who the buyer is? Maybe I could talk to them, see if they'd be willing to renovate?”

Nell smiles at her wanly, tired of being on the defensive,“It's Lex Luthor.”

“Oh,” Lana says, and suddenly feels like her world was turning to gray.

 

* * *

 

Chloe comes to slowly, the world a blur of white and fluorescent lightning.

“Oh god, who hit me with tractor?” Chloe mutters, hissing in pain when she turns and sees her arm in a cast. “Oh my god. What happened to my arm?”

Chloe scans the room and startles as Lana slowly uncurls from herself and gives her a beaming smile.

“Chloe! You’re finally awake!” She moves to draw Chloe in for a hug, wrapping her arm around Chloe gingerly.

“How are you feeling?” Lana gently finger combs Chloe’s hair down in place.

“Like a million bucks, Lana. How long have I been asleep? Please don’t tell me it’s been ten years already.” Chloe looks curiously around the hospital room, seeing flowers and get well cards stacked hazardously in the corner of a desk.

“No, just a day. Are you feeling any pain? I think I have to go get a doctor.” Lana looked nervously towards the door, before giving an apologetic smile at Chloe and shooting off to find a doctor.

“Ugh,” she said to an empty room, “I hate my life. I thought reporting was supposed to be the dangerous job, not walking in a hallway.”

A laugh breaks her muttering, and a doctor walks through the doorway, with a languid smile on their face, “Ms. Sullivan, how are you feeling today?”

“Like someone held me at chokepoint and bodily threw me out of a window.” She grouched, pulling uncomfortably on the cast attached to her arm.

“That sounds about right,” Christine said, checking her patient's chart and the clipboard in her hand, “It’s quite a fall you had there, Ms. Sullivan. We were all very worried when you didn’t wake up for quite a bit.”

“Luckily,” Christine says, “You had no brain swelling, and-” she bends down tilting Chloe’s head up to her flashlight and shines it in her eyes, “-Have you upon awakening experienced any nausea or dizziness? Do you currently have a headache, or blurred vision?”

Chloe squinted at the bright light being flashed into her eyes but didn’t fight it, “No to all.” She croaked, “It just feels like someone shoved sandpaper down my throat.”

 “Good. Very good, you seem like you’ll be able to handle visitors, correct?” 

“Yeah,” Chloe answered, looking at Lana on the chair next to her, looking expectantly at the doctor, “Visitors are nice.”

“Will she be okay?” Lana grasped Chloe’s good hand and held it tightly.

“She’ll make a full recovery, Ms. Lang, please don’t worry. I’ll have one of the orderlies bring in a cup of water too, so you can take care of that thirst. If you need anything just shout.”

“Wait!” Chloe said, hand wretching itself from Lana’s grip.

“Yes?” Christine said turning to face her.

“When am I going to be able to get out of here?”

“You’ll stay for a day or two, just for observation, to make sure that the fall didn’t do any serious harm and then you’ll be on your way.”

Sighing, Chloe sat back as Christine left the room, and Lana looked at her worriedly.

“I can practically see the worry oozing out of you, you know.”

“I’m sorry,” Lana winced, trying to hide her worry better, “It’s just you know, you get a call late at night and it’s from Clark telling me you two were in a robbery, and you ended up in the hospital? How can I not be worried? Clark is fine by the way, he was a little pale and shaken up but he managed to get the drop on the other guys and take them out.”

“That’s good.” Chloe says, a yawn distorting her words, “That hay chucking finally came in handy, huh?”

She smiles as Lana laughs, “Do you want me to leave? You seem tired.”

“You think I’d be jumping off the walls considering I slept most of the day, but I feel like a wreck and I look it too. But, please, don’t leave?”

Lana smiles down at Chloe and fluffs her pillow, “I won’t. I have everything I could need, a book,-” Lana says, and then holds up Chloe’s good hand, their fingers entwined, “And my best friend.”

Chloe grins at her dopily, before turning to her side and going back to sleep, leaving Lana to the quiet of her hospital room, and the turning of aged pages.

 

* * *

 

Clark takes a deep breath and steps into Fordmans’, seeing Whitney’s silhouette with his X-ray vision.

Clark approaches him carefully, mindful to make sure his body language is passive and easy going, “Hey, Whitney.”  

Whitney looks up, surprise and suspicion warring on his face, “Hey.”

Clark rubs the back of his neck and shows a nervous grin, “I'm here to pick up a microwave for my mom.”

Whitney shuffles away from him, putting items up for retrieval, “You can pick it up at the back counter.”

Clark shuffles slightly closer to Whitney, “Uhm. I actually wanted to talk to you? If you have the time I mean.”

Whitney exhales through his nose, crosses his arms, and says, “Say whatever it is quick, I have work to do.”

"I know we haven't been friendly to each other, and we don’t know each other too well, but Lana asked if I could talk to you. She’s worried and to be honest so are a lot of other people.”

Whitney turned to look at the clock behind them, minding the time, “And why do you think I care, Kent?”

Clark frowns, “We- I only want to help, Whitney. There are people who love you and they see you slipping away, fighting to get rid of everyone. And they don’t know why it is you’re pulling away.”

Whitney scoffs at Clark’s words, “Sure they do, Kent.” Whitney looks him up and down, and swallows back anger,  “I bet you think it's just great to live in Smallville your whole life, take over the farm from your Dad.”

Clark winces, the memory of burying his father, stinging with regret, ”As much as I love my Dad, and our farm, I don’t think that’s the life for me, Whitney.”

Whitney scowls deeply, briskly walking off, yelling back to Clark, “Sometimes you don't have a choice.”

Clark follows him, close behind, the silhouette of an older Whitney fogging his eyes, “Whitney, you'll get out of here. You'll probably go further than anyone else in this town. And you’ll make everyone proud doing it.”

Whitney turns sharply on his heel, and almost nose to nose with Clark, spitting words in his face, “I lost my scholarship, Kent.”

Clark pretends to rear back, a look of sympathy on his face, “I'm sorry. Have you told Lana yet? I don’t follow football much, but you’re great at it, Whitney, don’t let thi-.”

Whitney shakes his head at Clark’s sympathy, disgust dripping from his voice, “I am going to spend the rest of my _life_ in this store, develop a bad heart at 50 like my dad, and become just another ‘Remember him.’ At least until someone young enough comes along to snag another full ride.”

Whitney runs a hand through his hair, eyes wet, but cheeks dry, “I'm never getting out of Smallville, Kent, and the sooner I make my peace with it, the better.”

He doesn’t even try to smile at Clark as he pulls away, “I need to get back to work. Sucky pep talk, Kent.”

“Whitney,” Clark yells, but he doesn’t stop walking away, “Don’t forget that there are people who love you in Smallville even if you never leave it. People who will be proud of you, for being you and not some all star football player. There’s more to life than just one calling, all you have to do is find it. Find it and believe in it because there’s more to you than just football. There always was.”

Sighing, Clark watches Whitney walk away, feet already headed towards the back desk to ask for the new microwave he may or may not have broken.

 

* * *

 

Clark pulls the hospital door open, a fresh bouquet in his hands, and a huge smile on his face.

Chloe beams as she sees him walk in the room, and Lana gives him a small wave, closing her book and stretching her legs out from their cramped position.

Clark puts the flowers on the bedside table, and goes to gingerly hug Chloe, “Lana called and told me you were awake, sorry I couldn’t visit yesterday. How are you feeling?”

Chloe leans back into her pillows as he pulls away from their hug to sit at her bedside, “Like I was defenestrated.”

Chloe purses her lips and a sly smile makes way on her face, “I always liked the word, now I get to use it in casual conversation.”

“I look forward to your use of defenestration in casual conversation.” Lana rests her head on a palm, lips twitching with laughter.

Clark doesn’t bother to hide his smile, “Ten points for creativity and, or, puns. I’m glad you woke up, Chloe. Everyone was real worried about you.”

Chloe shrugs with her good shoulder, and peers about the room, “Yeah, I noticed. Looks like Nell's flower shop's been stripped clean.” She teases Lana, but Lana only rolls her eyes.

Turning to Clark, she puffs her shoulder up,“I especially like the ones from Lex. They make me feel like I won the Kentucky Derby. Super fancy and extra bloomy. How much do you think they cost?”

Clark sighs and looks at the extraordinary bouquet, shaking his head, “I don’t even want to know.”

“Judging by the quantity Peruvian Lilies, maybe the budget of a small country.” Lana strokes her chin, eying the flowers carefully.

Chloe shakes her head in disbelief, as Clark hunches in on himself, “I, uh, I also want to say that I'm sorry.”

Chloe and Lana blink, as Clark hangs his head, “For what?”

“I let you get hurt. If I just caught him faster you would’ve never been thrown out of that window.”

“Well, now that you said something, Clark yes I am pretty mad at you.”

Lana’s mouth hands open, and her head swivels in between Chloe and Clark, and lets out a sharp squeak, “Chloe?!”

Clark stills as Chloe all but glowers at him.

“You didn’t help me when I was thrown out a window. I'm also mad that you didn't put out the Chicago fire of 1871, or prevent the fall of the Roman Empire, making you directly responsible for the Dark Ages!”

Huffing, Chloe calms down, “Honestly, Clark! How could I be mad at you? You shouldn’t even be mad at you. There was nothing anyone could’ve done against the insane robber guy. Remember, I even bit him, and it did _nothing_. Now that I think about it, he was pretty jacked.”

Clark’s lips twitch upwards, “Thanks, Chloe. I’ll try not to feel so guilty but I don’t think it’ll seep in anytime soon.”

“Want me to record it for you?” Lana holds up a small tape recorder to their faces, a shy grin on her face.

Chloe turns to Lana and smiles from ear to ear, “Perfect,” she says, grabbing the recorder from Lana’s hands.

Putting it up to her mouth, she practically shouts, looking Clark in the eyes, “Chloe Sullivan recording, straight from the horses’ mouth. By my own authority, I say that Chloe Sullivan’s defenestration was not caused by or attributed to Clark Kent’s inability to stop the seriously ripped robber dude whose name I still do not know. And that Clark Kent should immediately stop blaming himself for something he had no chance in stopping no matter how many bales of hay he can chuck. Capiche?”

Chloe ends the recording smugly, and hands the tape over to Clark, shoving it into his pockets.

“Now you can listen to it as many times as you want. No charge included.”

Lana stiffles giggles into one of Chloe’s unused pillows, and Clark gives Chloe another gentle hug, “I’ll listen to it as much as I can bare. I gotta go now. I still have Ma’s microwave in the truck.”

“Thanks for dropping by, Clark,” Chloe says goodbye, and Lana stands as well, shoving items into her purse, “I’ve got to get going too,” Clark hears her say as he walks down the hallway and back home.

 

* * *

 

Lana nervously stands still as she delivers her prepared speech, shivering as Lex Luthor’s gaze burns into her head, “This theater means something to a lot of people. I spent every Saturday of my childhood here, eighth row center. When the lights went down and the screen flickered to life, the problems outside these doors just disappeared. It was like being transported to a magical place.”

Lex takes a sip of his coffee, and raises an eyebrow, “That's a nice story. But that’s not why it’s really important is it? Why do you want to save this place so badly?”

Lana wrings her hands, trying to look him in the eye, “My parents met here. I guess I'm just looking for something to hold onto.”

Pursing his lips, Lex leans on the cleaned concession counter, “So you want me to preserve this monument to Lana Lang's sentimental memories?”

Lana shakes her head, furiously, and back steps at his gaze, “That's not what I meant.”

Lex looks at Lana, and then at the old theatre surrounding them, “You're a teenager, Lana. Mercurial doesn't do you justice.” He smiles but as the words come out of his mouth, Lana thinks he sounds bitter.

Lana sighs, “I thought you might understand.”

“As well as I _could_ understand, this is business, Lana. All these old storefronts are becoming professional office space. Smallville needs a parking garage.”

Lana stills her hands, burning with shame and sorrow, “So you're going ahead with your plans? Add a parking space to Smallville?”

Lex hums at her question, a bored look in his eye, “You haven't given me any reason to change my mind.” His phone beeps, and breaks his stare, barely giving her a glance as he turns to leave, “If you'll excuse me, I have a work matter to attend to.”

Lana stands in the silence of the Talon, dusty, more than a little tired, and cries, feeling like the memory of her parents was already slipping away.

Clark steps into Fordmans’ flashing a smile, as Whitney appears in his line of view, quietly wiping down a counter.

“I'm kind of busy, Kent. I can’t exactly take some time off for your little chats.”

Clark tucks his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels, “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” 

Whitney stops wiping and gives him an unimpressed look, “Not a lot changes in one night, Kent.”

Clark’s lips quiver and a sorrowful look encompasses his face, “I can hope, can’t I?”

Whitney shakes his head, and turns to tag something with a price, “Knock yourself out.”

Clark continues to stand still for a few minutes before sighing and prepared to leave.

As Clark turns away, Whitney grits his teeth, “You spent all your time trying to steal Lana away from me back when we were together. And now that we're not, suddenly you want to become my own personal boy scout? And you haven’t made a move on Lana! What the hell is up with that, Kent?”

“That's not true.” Clark scratches his cheek, turning back to face Whitney, a sheepish grin on his face, “I don’t actually like _like_ , Lana. At all. Or ever. I just thought she’d be a cool friend. And now that we _are_ friends, friends help each other and she’s not the only one worried about you.”

“Well aren’t you just a regular good samaritan.” Whitney drawls, he pauses for a moment thinking something over, before he opens his mouth to speak,“Not a lot can change in a night, Kent, but maybe just enough can. I’ll talk to Lana at least, so don’t you go crying to someone else alright?”

Clark blinks in surprise, “Sure.”

“And,” Whitney scowls as the words slip out of his mouth, “I guess it’s nice to have you as my own personal boy scout Kent. I may have been wrong about you after all.”

Clark smiles like the sun shines out of his ass, “Thanks, Whitney.”

Whitney rolls his eyes and punches Clark on the shoulder gently, “But only just a little. You’re friends with Lex Luthor after all.”

Clark pretends to be outraged, nostrils flaring but a beaming smile gives him away, “Asshole.”

“Now get the hell out of here, Kent. You’re disturbing the employees.”

Clark squawks with false outrage as Whitney all but pushes him out the door with wet eyes and a trembling smile.

 

* * *

 

Clark idles about the loft, peacefully leaning on the windowsill and letting the wind flow through his hair.

Lana quietly climbs the stairs, and smiles at him, “Hey. Nell said you called? She said it sounded urgent.”

Clark leans on the windowsill, “I saw Whitney today. Well, and yesterday too.”

“Did you? What did he say? Was he still moody?” Lana stepped closer and pressed him for answers, “I tried talking to him a couple of days ago but he blew me off and I didn’t want to make him mad by pestering him everyday.”

Clark nods, “He’s better now. I may have hopefully talked some sense into him.”

Lana squeals and wraps him in a hug, as Clark raises his hands in surrender, “I said may have. He said he would talk to you and I’m really hoping he does, cause we kind of ended on a good note? Which is like really weird for me, I hope you know.”

“I’m glad, Clark. Thank you, you’re like one of the bestest friends I have. Thank you for convincing him more than I ever could.”

“Hey, don’t knock yourself down, Lana. We’re all lucky to have you in our lives.”

“But I’m not much help, am I?” Lana considerably dims. “I can’t convince Whitney to talk to me, how could I ever give Lex Luthor a good enough business proposition to keep the Talon open?”

Lana crosses her arms, and leans next to Clark on the windowsill, “I met with Lex. I tried to make my case, but he totally shot me down.”

“That’s Lex for you, pure Luthorian. Which means he can be... _harsh_.”

“Yeah,” Lana nods her head, “But the thing that makes me maddest is that he's right, I’m just some small town girl, what the hell do I have to offer Lex Luthor?”

Clark sighs as Lana bleeds frustration, “Maybe it wasn’t rejection.” Clark says, and taps his chin, pretending to be in deep thought, “Maybe it was a challenge.”

Lana pauses as he speaks, a light slowly flickering to life in her eyes, “You’re such a good friend to me, Clark. I don’t really know how I deserve a friend like you.”

Clark smiles as she gives him a quick hug, “And don’t you forget my good friend-iness. Everyone needs a little help in their lives Lana, a little pep talk, it’s nothing special. Now are you going to go talk to him?”

Lana practically rips herself away from Clark, a thousand watt smile on her face, “Yes! But after work, cause I still have to build up my case.”

She gives him two huge thumbs up before taking off down the stairs and out of the barn, yelling loudly her thanks.

Clark leans back and chuckles as he hears Lana’s car start and quickly pull out of of their farm, Lana muttering to herself.

He was so proud of them.

 

* * *

 

Clark rushes into Chloe’s hospital room, as fast as normal human speed would allow, and stops dead in his tracks at the person in the visiting chair.

“Pete.” Clark says gruffly, “What are you doing here?”

Pete looks at him hesitantly, “Well, Chloe called and asked if I could drop by for a visit.”

Chloe looks at the two of them, and grins, “So, I insisted that you guys come here.”

Clark sighs, and enters the room, sitting at her bedside, away from Pete, “You should be resting.”

Chloe pouts, “You know what? All this resting is driving me insane. These so-called healthcare professionals just want me to stay in bed and eat Jell-O. When I get out of here I am banning Jell-O from the house. And I just want to hang out with my friends, is that too much to ask?” 

“Those dictators,” Clark jokes, “The only rule they know is their own and that of Jell-O.”

Chloe looks at them nervously, “You guys don’t mind, right? That I want to hang out with you both at the same time?”

Pete grins weakly, but Clark gently grabs her hand to squeeze it, “Of course not, Chloe.”

“So, Pete,” Clark tries to smile, “What’ve you been up to?”

Pete looks at Chloe, choosing to act like Clark isn’t in his sight, “Still on the football team, I’ve put some more muscle on, so, Coach said he was thinking about moving me up in the line. I also got some more community hours for extra credit and I decided to spend them at the Y.”

Chloe blinks, and grins brightly at him, “ _Wow._ A lifeguard. I’m sure everyone feels safer when you’re around, Pete.”

“Well,” Pete shrugs, trying to act nonchalant, “It’s way better than being at the Retirement Center. How is that crazy old lady anyways, Clark?”

Chloe turns to Clark in confusion, “Crazy old lady?”

“She’s not crazy,” Clark grumbles, a pang of protectiveness lancing through his heart, “Cassandra is just...different.”

“Yeah,” Pete snorts, “Different enough to think that she can see the future. I volunteered there too, I heard the rumors. Insane if you ask me.”

Clark’s nostrils flare, and Chloe laughs nervously as she stares at Clark and Pete.

“So, Clark, how can Cassandra see the future?”

“Well,” Clark says, grateful for Chloe’s misdirection, “Cassandra went blind the day of the meteor shower. Since then, she says, if she touches you, she can see your future. Not everything, she says, but enough to get a general overview.”

Chloe raises an eyebrow, “And what did she say, to you, about your future?”

Chloe frowns as she watches Clark freeze, and pale, and _tremble_.

“Clark?”

He smiles weakly at her, “I’d just rather not talk about it if that’s alright?”

“Sure, sure, don’t even worry about it. You know me and my curiosity.” Chloe strokes his hand, gently, “Other than telling the future, what else does Cassandra do?”

“Well, I usually go two or three times a week to read to her or just chat.”

“Haven’t you already done all of your community service hours?” 

“Yeah,” Clark says sheepishly, “But I don’t mind doing a little more. Especially since I get to see Cassandra and talk with her. She’s pretty cool you know. We usually read some random book one of the orderlies drops off.”

“Sweet! Anything cool?” Chloe considerably perks up, as Pete smiles blankly.

“Well, I think one of the orderlies is a Trekkie, cause we keep ending up with a lot of books by William Shatner. Or maybe just really into Science Fiction...”

Chloe bursts into laughter, “Well, there are worse things to be in life than a Trekkie. Right, Pete?”

“Right,” Pete agrees, barely interested in the conversation. “So, have you guys done anything actually fun? There was a party Felice Chandler threw the other night-”

Chloe snorts, “God, Pete, you know I’m practically M.I.A towards anyone who’s popular. Unless they want a shout out, or something. So no, no parties for me.”

Clark bites his lip, “Same for me really. Just doing chores, and hanging out with Lana and Chloe, and sometimes at the Beanery-”

Throwing Clark a playful look, Chloe says, “Lex Luthor thoroughly disapproves of the coffee. I swear ever since you told us he doesn’t like the coffee, everytime Lana and I go, it’s so easy to see how much he hates it. Why does he even drink it?”

“Well-,” Clark starts.

“Pfft.” Chloe snickers, “Nevermind. I forgot we’re all caffeine addicts. It doesn’t matter how bad the coffee is, as long as we can inject it into our bloodstream everything is mellow. Right?”

Pete sits still, the corners of his lips slowly moving down, “So, you’re still hanging out with Lex Luthor?”

“Yeah-,” Clark says, feeling the tension between him and Pete reach a peak, “-Yeah, I still am.”

“ _Cool_ ,” Pete spits out with a clenched jaw, and a smile so fake he could win Grammys.

“Yeah,” Chloe says, tapping her fingers nervously.

“So, Clark, can we talk in the hallway?” Pete stands, and waves to Chloe.

“Is it alright if we leave you alone for a bit, Chloe? We probably won’t be long.” Clark looks nervously towards the hallway, and then back to Chloe.

“Sure,” she says, but Clark can she she is nervous too, “Just don’t take too long or the boredom will set in.”

“Will do.” Clark says, and follows the man, _no_ , the _boy,_ he considered a brother out into the hallway.

 

* * *

 

“Pete, what did you want to talk about?”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Clark prepared for the worst, as Pete opened his mouth to speak.

“I’ve really missed you, Clark.” Clark gapes as Pete smiles thinly at him, “Life isn't the same without you, and even if you hang with Lex Luthor, I guess it doesn't mean you can't hang with me too?"

Clark bites his lip to stop his smile from showing as Pete continues to speak, "I know I said a lot of mean things about him. That he was crazy, as asshole, and that the Luthor's had only gotten worse, but I- I was jealous. I still am. It just felt like he ripped you away, from me, like he took my place, and that I didn't matter to you."

Clark immediately softens, almost hugging Pete, "No, Pete. I missed you, too. And I really did feel like a big part was missing when we weren't talking. I know you don't like Lex and I still pushed you-"

"How about we just don't mention anything Luthor in my presence and we can be friends again?" Pete smiles at him or at least tries to, as it tapers off into a grimace.

Clark standing in the florescent light of the hospital felt a pang of sorrow, "I-I'm not sure Pete. It's just, Lex is my friend too, I can't just cut him off-"

Pete frowns harshly, "It's what you did to me, didn't you? Cut me off for Luthor's sake? Can he not stand to hear someone actually telling the truth about the Luthors for once?"

Clark shakes his head, "You know that's not it. And that's not what _I_ did. _You're_ the one who decided you didn't want to talk to me after we argued. I wanted to stay friends, to see if you could see Lex in a different light. Because he may be a Luthor, but he's better than his father ever will be. Why can't you just let it go?" Clark ended miserably, he then sighed deeply, “I don’t want to argue, Pete.”

Pete huffed, turning his body away from Clark, "I can’t let it go because Clark, one day someday far in the future, you'll see Lex Luthor for what he really is. He's a _snake_ just like his dad, and it’s like he's made of fool of all of you.”

Pete stands stiffly, voice soft but cutting, “I'd never thought I'd see the day the Kents' started liking the Luthors."

“He saved my life, Pete. My parents decided to give him a chance. He saved _yours_ too, that day at the plant.”

"Of course he did," Pete yells, no longer interested in keeping quiet, "It was their own damn fault it happened in the first place! Just that the hell do you see in that asshole?”

Pete trembles with anger, and stalks off out of the hospital not even saying goodbye to Chloe, and glaring at Clark.

Clark holds his head in his hands, as Pete stalks off, and wonders how it all went so wrong. He wonders what he’ll tell Chloe and then winces as he sees the door slightly ajar. When he enters he sees Chloe sighing and shaking her head as she gestures for him to come close.

"I'm so sorry, Clark." Chloe starts to cry, "I thought you guys could make up."

Clark sees her tears and starts to cry as well, pulling her in for a hug, "I'm sorry, too. It just feels like the more I try the more I mess it up and he pulls away."

Chloe sniffles into his ear, "I miss us being the three musketeers."

"Yeah," Clark nods, "those were the days."

Chloe wipes the tears from her face, "I won't blame Lex Luthor, because obviously this isn't even his fault. It's Pete's prejudice and you're stubborn ability to see the best in people. Don't beat yourself up over it, we- we've lost a good friend, but hey,-" Chloe shrugs nonchalantly, "We've gained two more."

Clark smiles back at her, "I guess we have." Clark looks lost in memories, as Chloe prods his shoulder, "I won't stop trying though."

Chloe smiles at him but it is small, weary, and sympathetic, "I know you won't Clark Kent, and I would never expect you to."

 

* * *

 

Chloe groans in boredom as the television in the hospital cuts out once again, and tries not to bash her head into the nearest railing.

A polite knock on the door pauses her griping, and it opens to reveal Lex Luthor.

"I heard you were awake, so, I came to apologize for the injuries you got at my residence. You certainly look...." Lex paused for a moment, giving her a terse smile, "Better."

Chloe let out a dry chuckle, leaning back on a pathetic excuse for a pillow, "You should see the other guy." She smirked, and Lex shook his head trying to hide a smile.

"So, what can I help you with Lex? I know I got injured at your place and all, but it's not really your fault. So, why are you here?"

Lex smiles at her, and sits at the foot of her bed, "Always cutting to the chase, Chloe, that's what I like about you. No doublespeak, or endentres."

"So what?" Chloe rest her good hand on her lap, curious to hear what he has to say.

"A couple of days ago, a man named Hugh would've approached you-"

Lex makes to take a photo from his jacket but Chloe stops him, "He did. He said you had a preposition for me, Lex. But there's no way I'm agreeing to anything before you tell me the truth."

"I figured as much, Chloe. This is a bit of a special project of mine if you will," Lex buttoned his jacket and began to pace the room, "Smallville is a good place, filled with wholesome people who'd just like to make an honest living. Which is why it strikes me as strange that it is also home to some of the most unusual reports and cases across the midwest.”

“Sure,” Lex says, tapping his foot onto the linoleum floor, “People don't report about it anymore these days, but your 'Wall of Weird'? That is all evidence. Evidence of a symptom, an allusion to the things that are happening and have happened at Smallville."

Chloe's eyes narrow as Lex continues to speak, "Where is this going?" She asks, "And why do you need me?"

"There is something happening all throughout Smallville, Chloe. And I know, I’m not the only one who sees it.”

Lex Luthor looks her in the eyes and something in them dares her to lie.

She can’t.

“You and I are perhaps, some of the only ones who acknowledge it. Who are _curious_ about it."

"And?" Chloe says, scoffing, "Just because we believe it doesn't mean anyone else will. Smallville is like that. Weird stuff happens, it all goes away very hush, hush and then you never hear about it again, except in rumors. I've tried talking to some of these people but it's like prying a molar from a healthy man."

Lex nods at her words as she speaks, "You see, Chloe, I want the truth. There is something going on in Smallville, that I can't piece together completely. I'm an outsider, and so are you, but you've been in Smallville for a couple of years-” Pausing at a window, Lex’s silhouette is outlined by the sun, “You can find things I wouldn't be able to."

Chloe stills in her hospital bed, the curiosity eating away her patience, "What's in it for me?"

"You mean other than the truth of finding out what it really happening in Smallville? You would get my resources, camera's, recorders, _people_ that could make the information gathering process a little... _easier_. I could even add in a little monetary incentive?"

Chloe blinks and then a smile lights up her bruised face, "Anything else you'd like to ask before we go through with this?"

Lex stops pacing and looks her in the eye, "Knowing what you know, and what you've seen, Chloe, can you with some certainty say that perhaps the meteor rocks are causing all these problems in Smallville?"

Chloe stops smiling as soon as he asks the question and her eyebrows scrunch painfully.

She begins mutter quickly, her head beginning to ache with all she is trying to remember.

"Sean Kelvin, Jodi Melville, Tina Greer ran away, Jeff Palmer was crazy and Kyle Tippet...," she begins to count on her fingers, "I always knew there was something weird going on in Smallville, but I never really thought to connect it to the Meteor Shower. Do you think it would explain why some people get weirdly aggressive, like Coach Walt?"

Chloe looked up from her fingers, "Wait, if this all started because of the Meteor Shower...that is the hypothesis we're going with right?"

"Correct," Lex said, watching her piece together her clues.

"Then why are people barely showing symptoms now? After 15, 16 years?"

"That's what I want you to help me find the answer to. You won't be doing lab tests but you'll be asking the questions, and putting together the puzzle. As much as I would like to chase this question, I find myself with limited time. So, is it a deal?"

Chloe bites her lip and hesitates, before thinking back to the man who grabbed her and threw her out of a window, the man who had teleported the best security Metropolis had to offer, and she knew her answer.

"I'll do it," she said, and they shook hands.

 "Just one thing, before you leave Lex, I think I may already have a lead, or at least a really good starting point?”

Lex blinks at her, and smiles, “And what would you say this lead is?”

“Not a what, but a who. Clark mentioned a name when he visited me earlier, and Pete dropped some info that this woman could see into the future, Clark even said she went blind the day of the meteor shower.”

Lex turns on his heel, towards the window again, “Cassandra Carver. Yes, I know about her.”

“You do? Wow,” Chloe says, running a hand through her greasy hair, “You’ve got some real good sources. I guess I can cross her off the list.”

“No,” Lex said, “Go meet her. Let her grab your hand.” Lex looked at Chloe and held his hand up, staring at it like it held the answers to the world, “She can tell you things you’d never want to hear, but that you need. I might even give her another visit myself.”

“Sure. I’ll be sure to drop by as soon as I get out.”

“Be sure to tell me how it goes, Chloe, that is, if it isn’t too... _personal_.”

Lex quickly gave his goodbyes and told her to come to the Manor sometime when her arm was healed up.

Laying on her bed, mind spinning and grasping for any connections to find, Chloe felt the time ticking down to her release couldn't go any slower.

 

* * *

 

Lana stands outside of the Talon, looking at the Porsche parked in the front, “He's early.” She mutters, “Okay, here goes nothing.”

She looks up to see Clark cheerfully giving her a thumbs up, “It's a good plan. Just remember, stay confident, and let him see the details.”

Lana nods deeply, “Thanks for all your help, for everything really. Wish me luck? And wait for me, please?”

Smiling at her, Clark crowed, “It’s not luck that is going to keep this place open, it’s going to be your hard work. I’ll be right here, take your time.”

Lana beams at him and heads inside, greeting Lex as he sits on a stool waiting for her.

“Thanks for coming, and giving me your full attention.”

Lex sends a quick text before pocketing his phone, “I was surprised by your call. After our last meeting, I didn't think I'd hear from you again.”

“This time, I came prepared.” Lana cheerfully hands him a thick file folder, filled to the brim with printed paper.

Lex slowly weighs the heavy folder in his hand, “What's this?” He says, arching his eyebrows at her.

“My business proposal. Small towns across the country revive their towns by remodeling old buildings and turning them into social hubs. They didn’t build cookie-cutter malls or parking garages, because the people in those towns didn’t really need them. Instead by restoring the old buildings that were already there, and creating these social places, it allowed the towns to have more economic flow instead of giving it to big industrialists and taking the money away from those towns. They remodel the old buildings into cafes, bookstores or even libraries.”

Lex leafs through the printed pages, scarcely looking them over, “You want to turn the Talon into a cafe-bookstore?

Lana hides a wince, trying to remember Clark’s words of confidence, “It could also be a venue for local bands and art-house movies. If you look on page 12, I found out you can register the building as an historic landmark, which gives you certain tax benefits, even if I can’t explain the details to you.”

Lex hums as Lana explains, “Who's gonna manage it?”

Lana grins, “Nell said she'd be interested and I can train with her after school, try running it myself in the summers.”

Lex stops humming, and then looks down to Lana, “How'd you come up with this? It seems a little out of your area of thought.”

Lana smiles bashfully, shooting a quick glance at the door,“I can’t even say I would've tried again, if it wasn’t for something that Clark said. He told me you like to challenge people.”

Lex closes the thick folder, smiling thinly, “Clark said?” Lex gives the papers a look, before turning to look at Lana, “Well, you've definitely risen to the challenge.”

Lana tries not to look like a lunatic and keep her calm, “So it's a deal?”

“I need to look over everything, with more time, but yeah. It's a deal.”

Lana tries to catch her breath, “Really?!” She says, rather conscious of the octaves her voice has climbed.

“ _Really._ ” Lex echoes back, “I think this could be the start of a very interesting partnership.”

He offers his hand and Lana eagerly shakes his hand, before becoming tense.

“I didn’t want to just talk to you about the Talon, uhm, I had something else I wanted to bring up, if that’s alright with you?”

“Fire away,” Lex said, fingers on the tip of his pocketed phone.

“I think we really got off on the wrong foot. I know now, that I definitely didn’t have the best impression about you.”

“Why would you say that?” Lex says, and Lana swears he smiles with too many teeth.

“I was rude, and suspicious, and I really didn’t like you for no other reason than old Smallville drama.”

“And now?” Lex asks, an eyebrow raised.

“You’re certainly not what the rumors say, I don’t know you much, or well,-” Lana smiles at him, “-But you’re such a great friend to Clark, even the Kents, and well they’re not the type of people to hang around those that aren’t good people in turn.”

“I am sorry I was rash in deciding you weren’t a good person and I was wondering if you would forgive me?”

Lex doesn’t show how surprised he is, as Lana keeps speaking, instead he gives her a small smile, rather genuine, and says, “You’re a teenager, Lana, it’s mood swings, ahoy. What’s there to forgive?”

Lana takes a deep sigh of relief, and beams at him, racing out of the Talon and screaming her happiness.

Lex is content to sit in the silence of the Talon, when he hears a deeper voice celebrating with her. Smooth, bright, and young, and if he squints, past the glass window on the door, he can see Clark swinging Lana in a circle, a wide smile on his face.

Setting the folder down heavily on another stool, Lex doesn’t lie to himself.

Closing his eyes, he knows his heart aches to see Clark’s happiness and know he isn’t the cause.

He _hurts._


	11. Zero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But it's dangerous near me. To be close to me. For others to know that you're my friend. I know that here in Smallville, for the most part, people believe in the good of others. But other cities? Metropolis? They're a cesspool, and I don't want something to happen to you because of me."
> 
> "What, Luthors don’t have friends?” Clark bites.
> 
> “Exactly,” Lex answers.
> 
> A vision in red overwhelms Clark, he drowns.
> 
> “Be careful, Chloe. You cannot dance with the devil and still hope to outsmart him.” Cassandra warns her.
> 
> As she walks away, Chloe feels the her stare weighing her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My promise has been kept! Praise me for I have done it! One more chapter and we get the good old Clex days back.  
> At least until Desiree and Helen arrive, those shipwreckers.
> 
> This chapter was a bit of blast if I'm honest, and I know Nicodemus is going to be awesome!!! ~~I'm hoping to blow y'all's socks off with it~~ Everything is going to be hella cool, I have so many ideas, I hope I don't drown in 'em.
> 
> Also, Clark has a memory that is rather unpleasant to the mind, and if you want to skip that section, it will have bolded asterisks, so you know when it ends and starts.
> 
> Thanks to Inuhime, and MurderCake for always commenting on my chapters, I love hearing what you all think!  
> I hope you all enjoy the new chapter, and leave a comment for the hungry author. <3

“You may tell the greatest lies and wear a brilliant disguise, but you can't escape the eyes of the one who sees right through you.” - Tom Robbins

 

* * *

 

“There is nothing like 50 minutes of Mr. Austin's English Class to work up an appetite. What are we having for lunch, anyways?”

Lana shakes her head at Clark, “You’re always hungry. I can barely think about eating. A six page student biography due Monday? Is he trying to kill me? I have no idea how I’m going to get it done in time with everything going on at the Talon.”

Chloe pats Lana on the arm, trying to console her, ”We’ll help out. Who did you get?”

Clark narrows his eyes at Lana, rubbing his chin conspicuously, “Six pages isn’t a lot if you up the font size. I’m talking size 16 and you’re golden.”

Lana and Chloe both snicker at him, before Lana shows them a slip of paper, “I got Smallville’s very own reporter, Chloe Sullivan!”

“What?!” Chloe says, snatching the paper from Lana, surprised to see her own name in small font.

“What about you, Clark?” Lana asks, as Chloe fretts in the background.

“Drum roll, everyone.” Clark says with uncharacteristic seriousness. Chloe rolls her eyes, but begins to drum roll on Lana’s back as Lana breaks into laughter.

“Ta-da,” Clark grins, waving around a small strip of paper, “I got Lana Lang!”

“It is _so_ rigged.” Lana says, smiling up at Clark.

“Tell me about it,” Chloe says, wagging her eyebrows at Clark and handing him a paper with his name on it.

“What are the chances that we all got each other?” Chloe says, looking suspiciously back at their English classroom.

“Still less than winning the lottery,” Clark mutters, into Lana’s ear.

“So who are we doing first?” Lana asks, shoving her paper into a bulging folder.

“What?” Clark asks, “What do you mean who first?”

“This is obviously the world’s best excuse for truth, truth, and maybe dare.” Chloe says, walking backwards down the hall.

Clark side eyes Chloe, pouting, “You _just_ made that up. There’s no way that actually exists.”

“I’m a Metropolis gal,” Chloe says with an accent, “I’m full of secret games, Clark.”

“I’ll still have to talk with  your parents though. They definitely know everything there is to know about Clark Kent! The game will have to wait until we all have a good base understanding-”

“How about I ask you some questions first, before I have to get to the Talon?” Lana says, gripping Chloe’s arm, “That way I can get some of my assignment done before I don’t have anytime at all?”

Clark agrees enthusiastically with Lana, aching to race home and tell his parents about the school project.

“Fine,” Chloe grumbles, “But I need to go over any questions you have and make sure-”

Clark and Lana groan in unison as Chloe chatters on about proper articles, subject questions and the six page essay.

 

* * *

 

Clark flies into the house, the large amount of wind behind him slamming the door shut.

“Ma? Dad? Anybody home?” Clark yells, looking around the living room and kitchen.

“You need something, son?” Clark hears his dad yell, and heads towards the barn.

“Yeah,” Clark shouts, zooming into the barn and right next to his father.

“Clark!” Martha startles, putting a hand to her chest, “What are you doing at home when you’re supposed to be at school?”

“Lunch break,” Clark grins at his mother, and plants a kiss on her cheek, “We got a new project in school today. It’s a six page student biography.”

Jonathan puts aside the pitchfork, and leans in on the wall, “And is there something wrong with this assignment?”

“Uhm, well,” Clark grumbles, shuffling his feet, “It’s a student biography someone _else_ has to write. And Chloe got _me_.”

“Oh, dear,” Martha says, and looks to Jonathan, “Oh dear, indeed.” Jonathan says, mouth set into a grim line.

“She’s going to ask a lot of uncomfortable questions,-” Clark starts to say.

“It’s a student project, sweetheart.” Martha tries to reason, “I mean will she really pull out all the stops?”

Clark sighs, “I know, Chloe, Ma. She’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she has the full story. And that means asking a lot of childhood questions and maybe questions about the adoption.”

Jonathan pats his hands off on his pants, “Then we’ll need to get our story straight. Come on, let's head inside.”

Clark sits on the couch, Martha wrapped around him, as Jonathan begins to pull up the website that holds the records of his adoption.

“Your adoption was done through Metropolis United Charities and you heard what I said to Lex, son, Lionel certified it, it was above our level of access, so we let him handle everything.”

“You do realize that it’ll probably look really suspicious when you can’t even talk about how you adopted me, right? Chloe will dig into it like a mole. And I don’t-”

“Relax,” Martha gently, squeezed Clark trying to soothe him from his worries. “You don’t worry about this. It’s all on us, and it’ll be up to us to get this sorted out.”

“Maybe not,” Jonathan says, turning back to Martha and Clark, surprise on his face.

“What do you mean?” Martha asks, unwrapping herself from Clark to look at the computer screen, before almost falling over from shock.

“What are you guys looking at?” Clark nudges his parents away from the computer, mouth agape as he reads the words off of the screen.

“Metropolis United Charities was purchased by National Adoption Agencies with more than hundreds of adoptions handled in just a year. It’s showing my _paperwork_.”

“You didn’t have paperwork, son.” Jonathan says, bewildered, “Just the certificate that Lionel gave us.”

“How- What is going on? Who could’ve done this?” Martha asks, looking to Jonathan for answers.

“Who do you think?” Jonathan answers her, watching as Clark hurriedly puts on his jacket, and heads out.

 

* * *

 

Lana paces the floor as the contractor looks at a pipe on the wall, “You promised me everything would be ready on time.” She says, trying not to sound desperate.

The contractor sighs, “That was before the plumbing started leaking. It hasn't been replaced in years.”

“How long will that take?” Lana asks, standing to a side as the contractor comes down from the ladder.

“Umm, ah. I can't really give you a straight answer, not until I crawl up there, Miss. You resurrect the past you get the problems that come with it.” He says, shrugging, as if his words weren’t ominous in their own right.

Lana sighs and flips through a journal, “Lex Luthor is going to be by later. He's going to need numbers and a timetable. And a better explanation then resurrecting the past and the problems that come with it.”

“I’ll get on it, after I take a quick lunch.” The contractor nods at her and leaves her to silence.

Turning around, Lana startles as a man appears, “I'm sorry we're not open yet.”

The man shifts, before smiling, “It's about the assistant manager position. I know I'm late but if I can get an application?”

“Right.” Lana smiles, “Give me a second,” she says walking back to the desk, hearing his footsteps behind her.

“Great.” He cheers, as she hands him a paper, “I really appreciate this Ms.?”

“Lang.” She says, trying not to sound too stressed.

“Lang.” The man repeats, bobbing his head like a doll.

“Yeah. Just to warn you, my Aunt’s not taking anymore interviews until next week.”

“Well that's alright.” He says waving a hand, “I happen to have all the time in the world. I'm Jude Royce, Ms. Lang.”

He offers a hand to shake and Lana takes it, a small chill creeping up her back.

“So I understand that Lex Luthor has a stake in this project?” Jude asks, his voice filled with interest.

“Yes.” Lana says, “He's one of the owners.” She explains, “Why? Do you know him?”

Jude grins at her, small and sharp, “Well, a lifetime ago in Metropolis.” He says offhandedly.

Shuffling papers around, Lana hums, “It must have been interesting, he’s quite the person.”

“Well.” Jude scoffs, “Let's just say there's a reason he's in Smallville.”

Lana stops shuffling papers, and stares at him, as he looks her in the eyes.

“Some advice Ms. Lang, stay away from him. When Lex gets involved things usually turn out badly.”

Lana has no time to reply as the man leaves as quickly as he’d come, and she shakes her head, wondering why everyone seemingly had advice to avoid Lex Luthor.

 

* * *

 

Lex slips out of his car, and locks it with a casual click of the button, turning around to feel a hand on his shoulder.

He doesn’t show his surprise at seeing Kasich, instead he continues walking, “What are you doing here? We had an understanding. After that night we were never to have any contact.”

Kasich walks steadily behind him, far away enough for it to not seem like they were walking together, “I saw him, Lex.”

“Who?” Lex asks, already tired of the secrecy.

“Jude.” Kasich whispers loudly, and Lex pauses for a moment, allowing him to catch up, away from the bustle of the street.

“We both know that's impossible, Kasich.” Lex says, and continues to walk past him.

“Listen to me!” Kasich grabs Lex’s shoulder firmly, voice rising with hysteria, “He's alive. Everywhere I go I see him. He's _stalking_ me.”

Lex shakes his head, looking at Kasich in disbelief, “Just... calm down, alright?”

“I'm not crazy.” He says, looking desperately to Lex.

“Did this man say what he wanted?” Lex says, rubbing at his temple.

“Yeah, the truth.”

Lex listens with half an ear, eyes zeroing in on Clark walking towards the Talon.

“Listen,” Lex grabs ahold of Kasich, dangling a key in front of his face, “I keep an apartment in the city. It's very secure. You stay there and wait for my call.”

Kasich nods, and gratefully heads off, and Lex hurriedly walks to catch up with Clark.

“Clark,” Lex yells, speeding up more when he doesn’t respond, “Clark!”

Suddenly Clark stops, and Lex narrowly avoids barreling into him.

“Lex!” Clark beams at him like a puppy, removing his headphones and tucking them into his jacket. “I thought you were busy and all with that person, so I just decided to head on into the Talon. Who was that by the way?”

Lex smiles thinly at Clark, shaking his head, “Nobody.”

Lex saunters into the Talon, with a quiet Clark at his side,“I hear we've sprung a leak.”

He pauses as Lana looks around the Talon, stunned and nodding like a bird.

“Are you alright, Lana? You look a little peaky.” Clark says, looking at her in worry.

“Just a little weirded out.” Lana says and shakes her head.

“Relax, it's just a leak. It’ll get fixed in time.” Lex tries to console the teen.

“No, it’s not about that.” She says, “A friend of yours just came by and applied for the assistant manager's position.” She looks up at Lex, and timidly says, “He told me to... stay away from you.”

Lex doesn’t hide his smile, as he sees Clark grumble from the corner of his eye, “What was his name?”

Walking over to the counter, Lana grabs the application and reads the name off for Lex, before handing it to him,“A, Jude Royce?”

The amused look leaves his face and Lex blanks staring at the paper.

“What is it Lex?” He hears Clark ask, feeling slightly warm that Clark still cared about him.

“When did he leave?” Lex asks gruffly, looking at Lana.

“J-just before you came in.” Lana says, and watches as Lex walks outside, head swivelling to take in all of the street.

Clark follows him out, closely sticking to him, “Lex. Who's Jude Royce?”

Lex opens his mouth and then slams it shut, turning the alarm off for his Porsche, “Trust me, Clark. I don’t know who Lana met today but it couldn't have been him.”

“I’m not worried about it, so don’t worry about me, Clark.” Lex climbs into his car and Clark stands still, as the Porsche begins to blare the Murder tune to the whole block.

“What the-” Lex quickly turns the radio dial all the way down, yet the screaming and yelling persists.

“What's going on?”

“I don't know.” Lex answers curtly, and Clark tells him to look under the dashboard.

Lex quickly shoves his hand under and yanks, revealing a CD player taped to the inside of his car.

Groaning he says, “Looks like someone got creative while I was inside.”

Clark edges away from the creepy CD player, “What were the screams?” he asks, naively, looking at the palor of Lex’s skin.

“Some sort of sick joke. And a rather successful one. We've managed to draw a crowd.” Lex snarls, as he climbs back into his car.

“Lex-” Clark starts to say.

“Clark. This doesn't concern you. So, keep out of it, please?”

Lex drives off and Clark sulks for a moment, before heading back inside, intent on pouting for a good half hour before asking Lana’s help with his assignment.

 

* * *

 

“I’m home,” Clark yells into the house, as he hangs his jacket onto it’s hook, and closes the door behind him.

Martha and Jonathan smile at their son, “Did you get your assignment done, sweetheart?” Martha asks, as she sets down a plate of muffins next to Chloe.

“Almost. Lana made sure I was very thorough in my report but we’re about two-thirds of the way done. But I was also helping her with some of the heavy lifting at the Talon, since Whitney said he didn’t have enough time this week.”

Clark relaxes as he sees Chloe reading through the paperwork, Jonathan and Martha on standby in case she had any questions.

“Is everything alright?” Clark asks his mother, whispering in her ear as he pulls her in for a hug.

“We’re fine.” She whispers, rubbing his back, “That paperwork was a life saver, we managed to get everything in order by the time she came around.”

Chloe cheerfully smiles at him as he parts from his mother, “Since I couldn't find you all day I decided to start my interview here. After all, who would know Clark Kent as much as he would know himself? They’ve been such a big help. They even gave me all of your paperwork from the adoption!”

“Yeah,” Clark says, laughing nervously, “I used one of the school phones and called during lunch, when you and Lana were busy. I thought you’d appreciate being thorough so I had Ma and Dad prep everything beforehand.”

“Well, thank you! It’s been a _breeze_. Usually Clark is so closed off it’s nice to see him open about something!” Chloe chirps, shuffling through papers as the Kents’ look at each other and laugh hesitantly.

 “Right,” Chloe says, “I know I have the paperwork, but I was wondering, how did it feel to adopt Clark? Was there anything else to the process than what was on the paperwork?”

"We were very happy to finally be parents,” Martha answers, “Everything went pretty smoothly for us, since back then you know, you had to do a lot through mail, or setting up an appointment, none of the online things to do.”

“Cool. And that’s a wrap!” She beams at the Kents, and shuts off her camera. “I can just get Clark’s questions on paper, and save some C-90’s for later. ”

“Do you want to do the interview here, or in the loft?” Chloe asks, dancing around to take the camera off of it’s tripod.

Clark winces, “I’m on a pit stop. I’ve got to meet up with Lana to finish the rest of my assignment. And then she said she’d head to yours to finish hers.”

“Oh,” Chloe says, and then surprisingly agrees, “Well, at least you’re not avoiding me. Tell Lana I said hi, and that she can come around seven?”

“Sure will,” Clark hugs his parents goodbye, before waving at Chloe, snagging muffins off of the plate and heading back towards the Talon.

 

* * *

 

“So, how’s Whitney?” Clark asks, munching happily on a muffin, grumbling when Lana snatches one away from him.

Lana arches an eyebrow at him, "Like you're not _texting_ him, Clark Kent."

"It's good to here from other people about how someone is, more insight," Clark finishes eating his muffin.

“He’s better now. His dad is in the hospital, he has a heart condition. I just can’t believe it. Whitney even lost his scholarship and all this time..why didn’t he want to tell me?” Lana looks at the muffin in her hands forlornly, “I guess I don’t inspire much confidence, do I, Clark?”

“It has nothing to do with inspiring confidence and everything to do with not wanting to worry you. Whitney,-” Clark takes a deep breath, “-He doesn’t need pity. Not for losing his scholarship, or for what is happening to his dad right now. He needs support, understanding, and for you to have confidence in him that he’ll make it through. That you’ll be there _if_ he does need you.”

“Don’t be his crutch, Lana, no matter how bad you want to because he is stronger than you know.”

Lana sniffles, and she drags Clark in for a hug, “Thank you. For talking to me, honestly, and for caring so much about Whitney. I didn’t think you’d care so much.”

“Whitney’s a jerk, who has a bit of a temper problem. That doesn’t make him irredeemable, just...a teenager.”

“I’ll believe you, Mr.-I’m-Pretending-Not-To-Be-A-Teenager.”

Clark laughs, shaking her head at her tone, “So,” he says looking at the doors to the Talon, “How does it feel to bring the Talon back?”  

“Fantastic. It’s like...great that I can be counted on. That I have a responsibility and I’m making my own place. It’s everything I could’ve hoped for. I like the way people treat me now.”

“Like you won't break?” Clark asks, even if he already knows the answer.

“The fairy princess costume is finally fading away, and I’ve never felt more _ready_.”

Lana startles as she pulls of the doors of the Talon, blinks and then questions the man getting out of the Porsche, “Lex? What are you doing here?”

Lex offers her curious stare, “The contractor called, finally had an estimate. He wanted me to meet him here.”

“Alright,” Lana says, shrugging, and pulls the door to the Talon open.

“What the hell?” Lex’s voice echoes in the silent room, and they see the contractor lying face first on the floor.

Lana rushes over and gingerly helps the man up, “Are you okay?”

The contractor rubs the side of his head, “Yeah. I came in the back door and somebody jumped me. Forced me to let him in then bashed me over the head.”

Clark pauses at the door, “Did you see his face?”

“No, sorry. It all happened so quick.”

Clark hovers near Lex, and then walks towards the box, “What’s this?”

Lana looks at the box, and then runs out the door, shouting as she leaves.“That wasn't there when I locked up. I'll go call the police!”

“Lex...Your name's on it.” Clark watches Lex walk over, and rip the envelope open, showcasing a small matchbox.

“Zero consequences.” Lex scoffs, and then turns to the box, opening it and then flinching in shock.

Clark has no time to ask how Lex is as Smallville PD come running through the door, obviously worried.

“What’s going on here?” An officer asks, before looking inside the box and turning grim.

“We’re going to need your statements,” The officer says, flipping open a notebook, “And that box.”

Clark leans on the wall, next to a quiet Lana, watching as Lex spins a web of half truths capable of stalling the police for a while, “How are you holding up?

“I was fine until I saw inside that box. Coming back was definitely one of my regrets. Who the hell just cuts off a person’s hand?”

“Good question. I don’t think I’ve seen Lex this freaked out in a while.”

“That guy warned me. He said everything Lex touches ends badly.”

Clark’s eyebrows furrow as Lana begins fretting, “Lex is a good person,-”

“I’m not doubting his _goodness_ , Clark.” Lana whispers furiously at him, “But...how much do we know about his past? How much do _you_? I know you guys are close, but has he bothered to open up, or do you do all the talking?”

Clark opens his mouth to retort when Lex walks into their conversation.

He looks at the two of them briefly,“I want the both of you to know how sorry I am about this. It’s not something any of you should’ve seen.”

Turning to Lana he says, “I promise this won't affect the grand opening, so don’t worry about this, alright?”

Lana nods firmly, “I’ll try and put it out of my head.” She walks away, and busies herself at the counter, talking to the contractor.

Lex sighs and leans on the wall next to Clark, the silence awkwardly enveloping them.

Fiddling with his buttons, Clark looks at Lex from the corner of his eyes, ”Do you know who he was? The man in the box?”

“Max Kasich.” Lex says, and Clark feels that familiar blue eyes bore into him, “I knew him... a long time ago in Metropolis.”

“Any ideas on who did this, or why?”

Lex looks at the box in the officers hands, scowling when Clark deliberately avoids eye contact, “I don't know.”

“What about your old friend, Jude Royce? He seems to be popping up a lot for it to be mere coincidence.”

Lex’s fake laugh grates at Clark’s ears, “I doubt it could have been him Clark.”

“Why? He’s certain-”

“As much as coincidence is at work, people don’t come back from the dead.”

“Are you okay?” Clark mumbles, almost sure that Lex can’t hear him over the din of noise the officers make.

“I’m fine. Didn’t I tell you not to worry? This is my problem and-”

“Yeah,” Clark snaps, “It doesn’t concern me. I _got_ that.” He stomps away, out of the Talon, leaving Lex to hectic police officers and endless questions.

 

* * *

 

At the dawn of a new day, Chloe softly knocks on the wood of a door frame, “Hello, Ms. Cassandra Carver?”

“Yes?” Cassandra looks up from her book, gently closing it and putting it aside her chair.

“My name is Chloe Sullivan-”

“Clarks,’ Chloe? The journalist?” Cassandra asks.

Chloe blinks, and steps into the room, “Yes, that Chloe. I’m here because a... _source_ of mine said you could see the future. And that perhaps it would help me if you could hold my hand?”

Cassandra waves her hand, and beckons Chloe to sit, “And you wanted to see if it’s true?”

“Well,” Chloe smiles, “Not just that. Clark said you lost your vision the day of the Meteor Shower. I was hoping you could answer some questions?”

“Well, I’ve nothing but time, Ms. Sullivan. But if you don’t mind, the questions first. The visions take more of me now than they used to.”

“Right,” Chloe says, nodding her head at Cassandra. “Oh, Chloe please, Ms. Sullivan makes me feel like I’m in class. Do you mind if I record you?”

Cassandra’s head turns at the sound of Chloe dropping a heavy bag, “Not at all. Will it be long?”

“Just for the questions. And maybe some of the visions, hopefully? I have back up C-90s just in case we run short.”

“That is fine. Although, I hope none of these recordings make it to the newstation?”

Chloe began to set the camera up quickly, unfolding the tripod and angling the camera towards Cassandra.

“Of course, Ms. Carver. Right, I’m hitting record now, so we’re officially filming.”

“So, Ms. Carver, my source tells me you lost your vision the day the Meteor Shower hit, did you feel any different before it happened?”

“No. I having a perfectly normal day before the Meteor Shower. Tending the garden, reading my books, and cooking some breakfast.”

“Okay,” Chloe said, scribbling her words down, “Did your vision go all at once, or did it linger?”

“Sorry, you don’t have to answ-” Chloe smiled sheepishly.

“It’s fine, dear. I’m certainly used to people asking. And it went all at once, or at least I think it did. When the Meteor Shower hit, I was at home, outside in the garden. I was so lucky to not get hit by any rocks, but I did end up with a rather nasty mouthful of dirt.”

Chloe hummed at Cassandra’s words, “And did you feel anything in that moment, tingling, pain, numbness?”

“Just terror, dear.” Cassandra mused sadly, “I crashed to the ground, the sky coming down above me. I closed my eyes to daylight forever, and when I opened them, all I knew was darkness.”

“Do you think you traded one for the other? Your regular sight for your visions, that is.”

“At times, it is all I can think of. Of course, it is the greatest of ironies that my name is Cassandra, and that the words I speak, people rarely heed. They liken it to a circus trick, or a lucky guess. But I know, with just a touch, the truth of the people, I _see_ , Chloe.”

Chloe stopped scribbling, feeling a chill travel up her spine, she gave Cassandra a timid smile, “Have you ever felt any different after your visions?”

“Tired. Scared. Hopeful. I get a lot of headaches.” Cassandra faintly touches her temples, “I can control them to some extent. Choose what to see, what not, the past or the future, good or evil.”

“Just for curiosity's, sake, what are some of the weirdest things you’ve seen?”

“I don’t know about weird, Chloe, when you can see the future a lot of things become _normal_. But one thing that will always stick with me is the rain of blood.”

“Rain...of blood? Is that like some kind of omen, or something?”

“It can be. I have found it to be a precursor to change, whether terrible or great, I tremble to know.”

“Cool. Okay, so do you see people in your visions?”

“Not all the time.” Cassandra takes a sip of water, and then puts it back on the end table, “And not always familiar. But it has happened.”

“Anything with me in it?” Chloe teases her.

“Well, you could always take my hand and see what the future has for you.”

Chloe pauses as Cassandra offers out her hand, a smile on her face.

She thinks back to Lex’s words, _She can tell you things you’d never want to hear, but that you need._

Chloe gulps. Shaking, she takes the hand anyway, and watches as Cassandra goes slack.

 

* * *

 

As the music comes to a halt, Cassandra watches Chloe and Lana laughing, falling into chairs in an empty corner of the gymnasium.

“So, how did it feel going stag?”

“Well, I didn’t really go stag, did I? I had you after all.” Lana wraps an arm around Chloe’s waist, trying to straighten herself, “Thanks for convincing me to go. With the Talon and everything, I guess I just forgot about taking sometime off.”

“That’s what I’m for, fun distractions! Okay, let’s be real for a moment? Smallville can only have so many workaholics, and I take up two slots by myself. Chillax a bit, please?”

“No promises. Even having Nell to guide me, the Talon is a lot of work. I’m learning as fast as I can, but I still feel the echo of that little girl. It’s like I’m just playing dress up.”

“Well, you’re the best dressed Barbie here, Lana. Fake it till you make it, no one is born with all their confidence.”

“Are you sure about that?

“I know as cool as I am, even I did not come out of the womb this fly.”

Slowly, Cassandra began to pull back, other images making themselves more prominent, turning her head, she smiles as their lips shyly met, before a different scene engulfed her.

“You will investigate Clark Kent, I don’t like to repeat myself Ms. Sullivan...” Cassandra watches as Chloe fidgets, and then sternly clenches her jaw, “I already said no. He’s my friend, and I won’t-”

“You will, Ms. Sullivan, or your father will find himself without a job, _and_ opportunity. I can blacklist him everywhere. Would you really do that to your poor, old, father?”

Chloe’s scowls fiercely at Lionel, but agrees, before composing herself enough to calmly leave his office.

The scene changes, and Chloe enters an office, Cassandra watches as Lex’s shadow grows on the floor, Chloe stepping up to his desk.

“He wants to know about Clark.” She says in a small voice, leaving a wire on his desk, “Blood type, weight, age, biological lineage. He wants to know _everything_. Why the hell is he so interested in Clark? Even I don’t know some of the things he wants to know.”

Cassandra trembles as Lex’s smile turns sharp, “I don’t know, but I’ll find out eventually. Continue keeping an eye on him, and visit less, Chloe. My father is not a man without resources, and he hates double crossers.”

Chloe nods, “What do I feed him then? I can’t keep him off the trail we have forever, he’s going to wisen up one day, if he hasn’t already. Whatever is happening in Smallville isn’t subtle and he’s curious.”

“Let me handle his curiosity, you ‘dig’ up what I have.”

Cassandra sighs, as images of an older Lex and Chloe fade away, a sudden wind whipping her hair back and forth.

Flashes of Chloe and Clark come to mind, but pass too quick to focus on them in detail.

She feels a headache building in the back of her head and begins to pull away, clouds and thunder coming to a climax as images flicker without recourse.

Drained, Cassandra opens her eyes and lets go of Chloe’s hand.

“So, what did you see?” Chloe asks rubbing at her hand.

“You’ve got quite a future ahead of you, Chloe. And no matter how much you think you’ve grown, how much you’ll learn, you won’t be ready for it. Yet, no matter how bad tomorrow becomes, I know love will always stand at your side.”

“So, a future I won’t be ready for, and love at my side? Could you be a little less cryptic?”

“I could, but I am not in the habit of altering a person’s future forever. I give just enough to be of some advice. I cannot give you a road map, just some pointers.”

“Great. Thank you for being so ominous. One last thing, you said you could see the past, did you see what I talked to Lex about? Can you give me any leads? I don’t want to be at a loss of where to turn to.”

“Well, a little pointer never hurt. After all, what else could be in the skies on a normal Smallville day?”

“That’s it?” Chloe said, scribbling furiously into her notepad.

Cassandra only hummed, and Chloe sighed, beginning to pack up.

She stopped recording and shoving everything back into her travel bag.

“Thanks for everything, Ms. Carver. I learned new things after all. I hope you don’t mind if I drop by every once in a while?”

“I’m an old woman, I live for company.”

“Then, off I go,” Chloe smiles, hefting up her travel bag.

“One more thing, before you go.”

Chloe turns back, to see Cassandra’s hand raised, “Yes?”

With a grim tone, Cassandra speaks, “Be careful, Chloe. You cannot dance with the devil and still hope to outsmart him.”

“I-I’ll take that to heart.” Chloe grimaces as she leaves, each step away from Cassandra feeling like a death sentence.

 

* * *

 

Lex swings at the punching bag heavily, sending it careening back as he recalls Clark walking away from him. A man comes into the room, barely in the corner of his eye, and Lex pants, “Talk to me, Mr. Raines.

Raines crosses his arms, “According to the doorman, Kasich never made it to the apartment in Metropolis.”

“And Royce?” Lex says, wiping the sweat from his eyebrows and neck.

“His parents died when he was young in a car accident. As an only child he inherited everything.”

“What about Amanda Rothman. Have you tracked her down yet?”

Raines shook his head, “No sir. She moved, but left no forwarding address. May I ask, when's the last time you talked with her?”

Lex takes a deep drink of water, and offhandedly answers, “About three years ago.”

“I'll use a wider time frame, but it could take some time, sir. If you could tell me what was going on, it could help-”

“No it wouldn't, Raines. As the head of my security, you just need to find her and warn her about possible danger. You don’t need to know anything else.”

Raines lowers his head and walks out of the gym room, as Lex raises his hands to get another rep in.

He pauses. Cold, hard metal digs into his nape, and Lex goes stiller. He breathes in slowly and turns his heel. Eyes narrowing as Jude smugly points the gun at him.

“Nothing to say? I thought Lex Luthor had all the answers. Or at least that’s what Amanda thought.”

Hands in the air, Lex looked into Jude’s eyes, “Look you twisted, son of a bitch. I don't know what you want.”

“I want know what happened at Club Zero. Tell me about the cover up.” Jude cocks the gun and presses it to Lex’s chin, punctuating his words through gritted teeth.

“You know the cop, the one in the report? Phelan? I killed him. Seems Daddy paid him off very well to never tell a soul. It doesn’t matter though. He was begging by the end, but he said he couldn’t say a word or Lionel would _ruin_ him.” Jude trails the barrel of the gun down Lex’s face, the sweat dripping off of his face.

“Why don't you kill me now?” Lex asks, feeling the barrel of the gun dig into his cheek.

Jude smiles cruelly, “Well, because it’s more fun to watch you suffer. Knowing that at any moment, _bang_.” He fiercely jabs the gun into Lex’s throat as Lex grits his teeth, “It’s not so often I imagine, that other people hold Lex Luthor’s life in their hands.”

“Now, tell me what really happened?”

Clark stepped into the room, coolly yelling Lex’s name.

Closing the door behind him, Clark raises an eyebrow at him, “Are you alright, Lex?”

Lex straightens out and rips off his boxing gloves, turning to face him, “Clark. What are you doing here?”

Clark blinks as Lex paces the room, “Your office told me you were here? I had some...questions.”

Scanning the room, Clark pretends to be curious, “I thought I heard someone else.”

”No, I'm all by myself. What questions did you have, Clark?”

Clark shuffles his feet, lowering his eyes to the floor, “I looked up Max Kasich. Everything that happened at Club Zero, too. He shot and killed Jude Royce, so I can sort of puzzle together a revenge quest but...everyone fits into this except for you. What's going on, Lex?”

Lex stops pacing the room, and takes a deep breath, his voice coming out an octave lower, “Please, _Clark_ . For our friendship I'm _asking_ you to stay out of this. This secret, like many others are better left alone.”

Clark sighs as Lex avoids putting his confidence in him, “If that’s what you really want.”

Lex gifts him a faint smile as his mouth closes around a water bottle.

“By the way, I’m sorry for walking away from you earlier. I’m not mad at you. It’s more like I’m mad at the situation. I can’t help you, Lex, and it makes me feel so _powerless_.” He avoids looking at Lex, at the hesitation that must be there, and wishes he could just run out of the room.

Lex closes his water bottle and puts in on the table, “I don’t need saving, Clark. And I don’t want you sticking yourself into situations that you shouldn’t. I know you like to help, but this isn’t something your small town charm can work around.”

Lex gently pats him on the shoulder before circling back to the windows, “Do you want a drive home?”

Clark shakes his head, “I’d rather not, Lex. I’ll give you some space.” His eyes flicker to Lex, and for one electrifying second their eyes meet. For one second, Clark can see into Lex in a way he never has, the anger, confusion, and hesitance. He can see all the terror and the pride, and he startles.

“See you around, Lex.” Clark smiles at him sadly, before leaving his office, the sound of the door shutting echoing in his ears.

 

* * *

 

Jonathan walks quickly through a gate, his voice carrying with the wind, “Come on son. The cows aren't going to feed themselves.” He smile dims as Clark comes into view, “Did something happen last night? You came home...different.”

“I may have sort of argued with Lex?”

Jonathan raises an eyebrow, and hums, “May have, _sort of_ , argued?”

Clark raises his hands exasperated, “It’s not my fault he’s stubborn! I’m just trying to be his friend, not his... _anything else_ . But he just keeps saying, _don’t mind my business, Clark_ . _Stay away, Clark_.” He sucks in a breath of fresh air, “I know I can’t help him, but it’s still like to lend a shoulder.”

“Well, son, as much as you want, you can’t save someone that’s convinced they don’t need saving. Or that doesn’t need it. I know you like to help, but sometimes people don’t want help. Or a hand, or a shoulder.”

“Honestly,” Jonathan runs a hand through his hair, “You’d best leave him be for now. Men like Lex, the way they’re raised taught them to never rely on others for survival of any kind. It doesn’t mean he hates you, or doesn’t consider you a friend. It just means it’s going to take more time for him to trust and accept that you’re really there for him.”

“Speaking from personal experience, Dad?”

Jonathan shakes his head, “Not at all, but a farmer is observant because his livelihood depends on it. It turns out, being observant extends to understanding a lot of other things, too. Just don’t forget to remind him you’re there for him. Don’t worry so much about all this so much now, you’ll get better when you’re older, okay?”

Clark smiles at his father, “Sure, dad. Has Chloe come by again?”

“Shhh,” Jonathan puts a finger to Clark’s lips, and Clark pastes on a confused expression.

Jonathan closes his eyes, the wind ceasing to blow, the smell of wheat and corn filling his nostrils.

“What’s going on?” Clark whispers, pulling away his father's’ finger. Jonathan turns to him with a worried look, eying the rise before them.

“Over that rise is where the herd is. We ought to be hearing something, _anything_ , but it’s quiet. Too _quiet_.”

They race up the to the rise, and Clark’s whole body winces as he sees the herd dead, puddles of liquid, and steel drums strewn throughout the field.

“Dad...the herd, they’re all gone.” Clark watches his father sway on his feet, before shaking his head and running off to the house, screaming for his mother at the top of his lungs.

Cursing into the wind, Clark hoped Jude hadn’t royally screwed up the relationship between Lex and parents.

Time passes like a river above him, the sires flashing blue and red then blue again. A police officer arrives to the field not long after and he escorts Clark away, asking if he’s alright.

Clark says yes, but he knows, he’s more terrified than he’s been for quite a while. The officer nods at him taking his answer at face value before rushing off to his parents in the distance. Clark meanders by the road, looking listlessly to the horizon, aching with relief when he sees a humvee speed down the road towards them.

The car is quickly parked, and Lex strides past him to his parents, a frantic and apologetic look on his face.

“Martha, Jonathan,” Lex squeezes his hands together and looks for the words to say, “I have no idea how this could have happened. But, I'll do everything in my power to find out, who, how, and why. I'll pay for your livestock, for the damages to your farm.”

Jonathan consoles Martha as she huddles into his shoulder, heaving with loud sobs. Lex looks at them, and the words die in his throat.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he manages to choke out, waiting for them to say anything, feeling the noose tighten around his neck.

Jonathan’s voice warbles, and he squeezes Martha’s arm, his eyes locked onto the field before turning to Lex. “My herd is dead and my land is poisoned. I invited you into my home, fed you at my table, watched you talk and befriend my son despite you being a Luthor.”

Lex steps back at the rage in Jonathan’s voice, hands clenched into fists at his side.

“I watched you on live television risk your life for all those students, Clark jabbering in my ear about you nearly 24/7, and I can’t believe that you would ever do this, Lex.”

Jonathan reaches out to clasp Lex on the shoulder, “I know you, son, and I’ve _seen_ the good in you. Whatever bad blood was in between us, that’s been gone for a long time. I just want to know who did it. I want to know that our neighbors livelihoods are safe too. I don’t want whoever this was to hurt anyone else like this, _ever_.”

Lex relaxes at Jonathan’s words and nods sternly, “I will, Jonathan, I’ll do my best.”

Martha, silent, but weepy, pulls Lex in for a crushing hug, and Lex awkward but warm, rubs circles onto her back.

Pulling away, Martha smiles at him, kissing him on the temple, “Thank you, Lex. You’re good to us, you know?”

With watery smiles Jonathan and Martha go back towards the police and a camera flashing Chloe, ready to lead the man hunt for the culprit.

Staring blankly at the field, a torrent of memories flooding his sight, Clark drowns, and step by step, Lex walks closer.

 

* * *

******

A vision in red, Clark is thrown into the past.

The field is flooded with puddles of sanguine fluid.

The stench of blood, coppery and bitter sits on his tongue.

The smell of feces makes his stomach lurch uncomfortably, his nausea beginning to build.

He cringes, gagging at the thick smell of rotting flesh, as death, and decay, and terror overwhelm his senses.

He tries not to breathe, wishing for once that his reflexes weren’t so conditioned to play human, as he flies above acres of torn city, countless bodies strewn across the streets.

He weeps when he finds him.

He weeps loud and anguished, and _relieved._

_One friend he wouldn’t have to fight._

_One friend he wouldn’t have to kill._

He weeps, but keeps his distance when he finds the body of Hal Jordan, the ring gone from his finger, to find another Lantern, voidless eyes staring up into the sky.

He hesitates to fly closer, but guilt and empathy fill him and spill out, apologies drowning any other words that might’ve come out of his mouth. He clamps down on his disgust, suffers the stench, and the rot, hand trembling as his fingers rest at Hal’s eyelids, waiting to close them forever.

Clark looks around him. Above him. Down below and to the broken buildings with even more broken bodies inside. Within his hollowness, he thinks, one day he will find the power to weep for all the horror he had wrought. One day he will be drowned by his demons, and his regrets, for all he says he does not have them.

His fingers resting at Hal’s eyelids, tremble more so, and Clark thinks, his body grieves his friend more than he ever will, as tears fall onto the cracked and rotting skin of Hal.

Coast City is gone, it’s citizens and hero dying with it, and Clark tells himself he feels nothing but victory and _relief,_ that he has been spared at least one friend’s betrayed face. At least one face he doesn’t have to see every time he lies down to sleep.

“I’m sorry, Hal. I won’t lie to you, not when lies do not matter. I-” Clark pauses, wheezing with the efforts to control his senses, “I didn’t mean for you to die, not in this way, and not this soon. I know you’re probably cursing me to Hell and back, but I’m glad I was spared your...disgust.”

Clark forces himself to look at the face of his friend, of his comrade, and brother, and he howls his anguish to the cold winds.

“Sometimes, I think, I will regret so much when I wake and see your faces that death would be too kind for me.” Fingers trembling, Clark closes Hal’s eyes forever, “I’m sorry I left this world to die. Left _you_ to die. I’m more sorry than I can ever say. ”

His world shakes, crumbling to pieces and blowing into the wind, and everything falls away, the vision in red, bleeding color, and peace, but still, Clark thinks, remorse sits funny in his stomach.

******

* * *

 

Lex hesitates as he steps closer to Clark, before he steels his resolve and gently taps on Clark’s shoulder.

“Clark?” He asks, frowning when Clark stands perfectly still.

“Clark, are you okay?” He questions him, thrown off center when he sees the way Clark’s eyes have glossed over, staring at the field of dead bovine.

He shakes him one last time, and Clark falls into his arms like a puppet with his strings cut.

“Clark, what the hell was that?”

“I-I can’t believe it. They’re all gone. I can’t-” Clark mutters, beginning to heave, eyes still focused on the field, his breath growing more and more ragged.

“ _Clark_ ,” Lex barks, stepping into Clark’s field of vision and pulling Clark’s face to his own, “Snap out of it.”

Clark whimpers, and something tightens within Lex’s chest, at the thought of something causing Clark so much pain.

“Clark, it’s me, it’s _Lex_ .” He tucks a lock of Clark’s hair behind his ear, “You’re having a panic attack. I want you to breathe slowly, okay? Breathe _with_ me.”

Lex pulls Clark into an embrace, holding him loosely, inhaling until the air stings his lungs, and then exhaling loudly through his mouth. “Are you following me? Inhale, _again_ , Clark.”

Minutes pass as Clark begins to relax into his hold, breathing calm and sluggish. “Better now?” He whispers into Clark’s ear.

He feels hands clutch as his sides, wrapping him in a tight hug as Clark buries his face into his chest, hiding himself from the world and from Lex.

“Thank you,” Clark says, his voice resonating in his chest.

And Lex pats his back, worry seeping out of him like air from a balloon.

“Are you sure you’re okay now, Clark?” Lex asks, worry warping his voice.

Clark sniffles into his chest and pulls away, staring at him, “Yes, I’m fine. It was just the -the shock. They’re all gone,” Clark’s voice warbles sadly, but he doesn’t look the field again.

“Anyways,” Clark tries to smile at him, “How are you?”

Lex stares at Clark, eyeing him like he’d break apart, mouth opening to speak but snapping shut once Clark shakes his head vigorously, “I just had a bad reaction. I didn’t expect for all of them to just go and die. Some have died off through the years, but always the old, or the too young, in small numbers. Never all at once.”

Lex nods, keeping his silence for a moment, “I am relieved I didn’t fall from your parents’ graces’. For a moment he really had me thinking it was all over. But apparently, your father thinks I’m a better man than I actually am.”

“He knows you would never hurt us this way, Lex. Not when we’re friends, and not when you’re trying to make Smallville home. You are a better man, and it’s time you started believing it too, Lex.”

“Do you think, “Clark starts shyly, “That this has anything to do with Club Zero?”

Lex pauses for a moment, closing his eyes to think it through, before speaking, “I think so.”

“Are you going to tell the cops?” Clark asks, looking at the red and blue lights still flickering away. “This person isn’t just messing with you anymore. It’s- It’s us too.” Clark meets Lex’s eyes watching as Lex transforms his doubt into determination.

“I will,” Lex smiles at him, and points to his parents, “Go see how they’re doing, they must be worried about you too.”

Clark walks away, knowing it will be a while until he will see Lex again, but goes calmly anyway, knowing Jude wouldn’t pull the trigger for a while yet. He searches the farm with his X-ray vision, and only sighs when he sees Chloe has already ran for the hills, gone in the minutes he talked with Lex.

Sighing, Lex turns his attention to another officer, “Mr. Luthor? A CEP guy needs to talk to you. He's over there.” The man points off in the distance, to a masked man looking out at the field.

Thanking him, Lex walks off in the pointed direction, scowling heavily as Jude’s smug face smiles at him from under his CEP costume. “Looks like this’ll be a real black mark on your company's environmental record, Lex.”

Lex motions to where the sheriff stands, growling at Jude,“I'm going to walk over there and tell that sheriff, _Jude_.” Lex spits his name like poison, beginning to walk away when Jude blocks his path.

“And tell them what Lex? What will you tell them what you won’t tell me?” Jude snarls, jabbing a taser into Lex’s side. Catching Lex as he drops, he backs away and throws him into the van, smiling as he removes his helmet.

 

* * *

 

Clark idles on the phone, pretending to hang up a phone call with Lex’s office as his mother walks in.

“Who were you calling?” She asks, leaning on the door frame.

“Lex.” He sighs, putting the phone back down on the receiver, “He's not in the office, Or at the mansion. And his cell phone goes straight to voicemail. It’s not like him to just ghost.” Clark stretches and stifles a yawn, eyes flickering to the front door, “Where’s Dad?”

“Out on the field, supervising the removal of the cows, talking with the neighbors and examining their livestock to make sure everything is alright.”

“I can’t believe the herd is gone. We’ll have to get another Bessie Mae.” Clark fondly shakes his head remembering the temperamental cow.

Martha purses her lips, “Maybe the new one won’t try to kick us to death.”

“Doubtful, there’s power in a name, Ma. And Bessie Mae will always be the troublemaker.” Clark stands to pour himself a cup of coffee, and turns on his heel to face his mother, “Do you think Lex would go with us to pick out some of the herd?”

Martha blinks, “I don’t know, sweetheart. He seems rather busy these days. Maybe that’s why he’s gone? Goodness knows he might just have some business in Metropolis that his father needed tending to.”

“Maybe,” Clark says, looking out of the window and counting down the time until he could help Lex escape. “I think I might call Chloe and get our assignment done. I managed to snag some time with Lana last night, so I’m done, but I haven’t seen Chloe except for this morning and she left quickly.”

“Well,” Martha kisses his cheeks, “Don’t drink too much coffee, or you won’t get to bed until morning. And, if you’re going to finish up your assignment, don’t do it in the loft. I know you haven’t taken that key out of its’ book, Clark Jerome Kent. We don’t need Chloe snooping around looking for strange symbols.”

“I will, Ma. I’ll make sure to put out some cookies so Chloe won’t be tempted to sneak up the loft stairs. Knowing her she’d do it all under the guise of the assignment.”

“I’ll be out with your Dad.” Martha grabs a jacket off of the hanger and slips it on, “Lord knows how the neighbors are taking all of this. They know we’ve had a change of heart concerning Lex, and now they’re just about all riled up. Smallville drama, it’s all recycled.” She shakes her head and sighs tiredly.

 

* * *

 

“You made it! Wow, is it weird that I’m surprised? First Lex ghosts and now you. Do you know how many times I called you?” Clark bounds over to Chloe, who has a stack of papers in her arms, and a fierce look in her eye.

“What do you mean Lex ghosted?” She narrows her eyes at him, a pout on her lips.

“Well, I’ve called his office about five times, and they haven’t been able to find him. His phone just goes straight to voicemail, and the last time I talked to him was this morning. He’s not usually so hard to get in contact with.”

“Right,” Chloe said, nodding her head.

“Did you need him for something?” Clark arches an eyebrow at Chloe.

“No, no,” Chloe shakes her head, and Clark hears her heart speed up, “You just seemed really concerned. We should start on our assignment, right?”

“Yeah,” Clark turns away from her and into the kitchen, coming out with a warm plate of chocolate chip cookies.

Chloe grabs pages out of her backpack in between shoving countless other things in, looking up at Clark with bashfulness, “Sorry, everything’s a bit of a mess. I’ve been busy and this has kind of fallen to the wayside.”

Clark puts the plate of cookies on the table, sitting next to Chloe and a hazardously stacked pile of papers, “Busy with what? I’m surprised Lana got it done before you, and you know how crazy she’s been with the Talon opening and everything.”

Chloe freezes, nervously showing him a smile, “Well, you know, with the Torch and stuff. I know I’m usually the epitome of cool, but even I can get overwhelmed sometimes.” Chloe giggles nervously, before quickly reading off of her paper.

“How did you feel when you first saw your parents? When they adopted you, not like an hour ago.”

“I don’t really remember?” Clark taps his fingers on the wood of the table, “I think I remember being really fascinated with my mom’s hair. It was so shiny and red. That’s about it really. Are you going to film this, by the way?”

“No,” Chloe says, “I’m all out of C-90’s. I’m lucky if I’ll have the budget-” Chloe coughs suddenly, and smiles widely, “Nevermind, just no recording for now. I’m going to stop rambling.”

Chloe finishes writing what he said, nodding her head to his words, “Have you ever remembered your birth parents?”

The neutral expression on Clark’s face twists into one of longing, and Clark sighs heavily, “I get emotions, a feeling of warmth?” His voice lilts upwards, as he questions himself. “I don’t remember what they look like, or sound like, or anything like that, but,” Clark pauses, remembering his Éú and Ukr, “I know they loved me.”

Chloe sniffles at his words, and wipes her eyes before the tears can fall, “And have you ever tried to look for them?”

“No,” Clark says, in a final sort of tone, “I never have and I don’t think I want to. I think somethings are better left alone.”

“Okay,” Chloe finished writing with a flourish, “And that’s a wrap! Also, Clark, what is this? Don’t tell me you’re actually doing research? What’s Club Zero?”

Clark doesn’t have to act tired, “Something Lex asked me to stay out of.”

“And let me guess, you haven’t?” Chloe puts a hand to her hip, “And they say I’m the journalist.”

“How can I stay out of it when he’s acting all weird?”

“You could respect his privacy? Like a friend does?” Chloe teases.

“I have. And it’s only gotten worse, and now Lex won’t even answer his phone. So, yeah, I’m pretty worried.”

“I should’ve noticed,” Chloe says, taking a bite out of a cookie, “You’re stress baking. I brang over the pictures by the way, just in case your parents need them for the insurance and whatnot. Thanks for the cookies, but I gotta go.”

“Chloe,” He says as she heads out the door, “It’s the same guy.” He flips the pictures so they face her and watches her eyes pop.

“But he’s dead!” She exclaims, and Clark knows he has her hooked.

 

* * *

 

Clark paces the room of the Torch, mindful not to trip over the corded phone line, as he hangs up the phone, “Still no word from Lex. I checked in with his office and nothing either.”

“Well, clearly I’m having more luck. I've pulled the records on your dead guy's license plate. It's registered to a John Smith. How _original_. He has an address in Metropolis and he does not work for the CEP. Where do you think he got the costume?”

“Maybe he hand-made it. Are you hacking into things again?”

“I’m choosing not to answer. If it ever happens, in a court of law, you would be unable to testify against or for me.”

“ _Chloe_. Hacking is illegal.” Clark chided her knowing she would never listen.

“So are a lot of things. And you know what? If they can’t catch you it’s as good as you never did it in the first place.”

“Can you call Metropolis PD and have them go to that address?” Clark throws the phone onto the desk, begins to head out of the room.

Chloe stands from her chair, “Why? What’s going on Clark?”

“From what I’ve managed to put together, Lex is in some pretty serious trouble. I’d rather be safe than sorry. I need to get going, call them please?”

“Yeah, but wait, before you go.” Chloe rustles around a drawer and takes out a small bag, “A lock kit. Just in case it’s a little bit illegal. I promise I won’t tell.”

Clark gingerly grabs the kit, and shoves it into his pockets, “Thanks, best friends really do, do illegal things together.”

Chloe snickers, “Separate in body but together in heart! Now, go or I’ll call the police on you! You dastardly criminal.”

 

* * *

 

“Are you ready to talk? You're finally where you should have been three years ago. Exposed. In the spotlight. Does it make you feel weak, Lex?” Jude mocks, walking in circles around him.

Lex hangs upside down, and slowly opens his swollen eyes, “Let me go,” he says, voice hoarse and throat parched.

Lex winces as a white light is shone in his face, blinding his eyes and his captor.

“What do you want from me?” Lex asks, making sure his voice shows no weakness.

“The truth.” The man leaves the light on, and Lex feels his breath tickle his skin, and so he begins to speak.

“Liar!” He screams, “That's what it said in the papers but that's not what really happened.”

“It's the truth. If you can’t believe me then read the police reports.” Lex hears the man pacing around the room before spinning him violently.

“I know you covered it up. I don't know how you did it, but you're going to pay. For _everything_.” The man spits into his face.

Lex retains control of himself, managing not to heave from his position but waits until the vertigo has passed to begin talking.

“Who are you?” he asks, trying to regain some sense and control of the situation.

“Don't you remember? Huh?” The man taunts him, something malice dripping from his voice, “You killed me.”

Lex opens his eyes wider as Jude steps into the light, and cocks his gun in Lex’s face, “Daddy can't save you this time, Lex.”

Lex closes his eyes, heart racing as he hears a shot ring out into the darkness. He opens them when he feels no pain, and confusion ebbs in his stomach as the contractor kills Jude Royce.

“No more games, Lex. It's time for the truth.” He walks up to Lex and shoots the chain, letting Lex fall to the floor in a heavy thump.

Slowly coming to his feet, tingles overtake him, blood beginning to rush back into his body, “I know you. You're the contractor from the Talon.”

“That's my day job.” The man sneers, and then blindsides Lex with a kick to the ribs.

”Who are you?” Lex groans, rolling to his knees.

“Mandy never talked about her family?” He asks, loading his gun.

Lex pales as he struggles to stand, “She said she had a brother in Central City, imprisoned, and that she was the only person he kept in touch with.”

The contractor smiles as he fondly recalls Amanda, “She was my lifeline while I was inside. Told me anything and everything. See, I never had a rich daddy to keep me out of jail.”

“I don't understand, what do you want with me?” Lex breathes harshly, eyeing the contractor with distrust.

“What do I want? I want vengeance for my sister.” Amanda’s brother laughs, eyes cruel and desperate.

“What do you mean? Where's Amanda?” 

His laughter dims, smile twisting insidiously, “She's dead Lex. She committed suicide a year ago.”

Lex expression twists into one of sorrow, “I-I never knew. Amanda-”

“That's because you cut her out of your life.” He spat, “You know, Jude's death devastated her. He was the love of her life. She had nothing to live for after that.”

Lex turns his head away to look at the corpse on the floor of the warehouse, “Who's that then?”

“Lucky break. After Mandy's funeral, I walk into a burger joint in Bludhaven and there he is, flipping burgers. I had to look twice. I figure if he could fool me, he could fool you.”

Lex stills as Amanda’s brother points the gun at him, Lex asks, trying to extend every second he could, “Why'd he do it?

“On parole. He needed the money and that's when I got the idea. You ruined Mandy's life. I'd ruin yours. She’s finally going to get the justice she deserves.”

Lex takes a labored breath, “You were right. The reports, what I told Phelan they were all lies. You want the truth, I'll give it to you. Amanda pulled the trigger, she shot Jude. I was just trying to protect her.”

“You keep twisting your story. I should’ve known all you ever do is lie. I'm through with you Lex.”

Lex shudders as Amanda’s brother puts his finger on the trigger, “Killing me won't bring Amanda back. None of this can change what happened."

“I don't care." He screams, "If you die, you’ll never hurt anyone else the way you did Mandy,” He fires quickly, and hits Lex in the shoulder, snarling as Lex goes over the balcony, readying himself to shoot again.

Clark rushes up the stairs, Lex falling in slow motion, and shoves the Contractor down the balcony after Lex, making sure to knock him out with all the finesse of his younger self, which was to say, none at all.

As they fall together, he places a ratty old couch where they would fall, and exits quickly, ready to play his part.

Banging on the door, Clark yells, “Lex, are you there? Is anyone here?”

Using his X-Ray vision he sees Lex wobbily get to his feet and head towards the door, not bothering to look back at the unconscious man.

Clark feigns giving up and makes a lot of noise to indicated him leaving, when Lex bangs on the door hurriedly, and yells with a hoarse voice, “I’m here, Clark. I’m _here_.”

“I didn’t know if you’d actually be here,” Clark lies, yelling at the door, “Hold on, let me get the lock kit, Chloe gave me.”

“Lock kit?” Lex asks slightly hysterical, “How did you find me, Clark?”

“With some help from Chloe and a lot of guessing. Now hold on, I need to concentrate for this to work.”

Clark grunts as he shoves the lock pick into the door, and with ease, opens the door, pulling it open to see a pale faced Lex.

“Boy am I glad you’re not dead,” Clark smiles at Lex, dragging him in for a hug before ripping off the straight jacket.

 

* * *

 

Clark sits by an empty corner of the Talon and smiles as Lana comes up to greet him, “What do you think?” She asks, looking at the Talon in all it’s finished glory.

“I'm proud. I knew you could do it, Lana. Look at you, this is going to look great on a resume.”

Lana smile gets warmer, her cheeks flushing with color, “Thank you, Clark. I would’ve never done this if it hadn’t been for you.”

“I can barely take any credit. I’m not the one who put in hours and hours planning a presentation for Lex.”

“Okay, yeah, but still, you’re great. Have you seen Chloe by the way?” Lana asked looking around the packed room.

“Nope. Last I heard she wanted to be ‘fashionably late'. She’s probably hiding in her car out front, messing with her camera,” Clark pretends to joke, while looking towards the exit and seeing Chloe doing exactly that in her car.

“Well, I guess I’ll give her a call.” Lana rolls her eyes at his joke, and then winces when she hears glass break, “After I take care of that. See you around, and thank you for coming, Clark.”

Clark sighs, sitting in a calm corner and takes a deep breath. Closing his eyes, Clark loses himself to the thrum of the music, leaning his head on the wall.

“Are you avoiding me, Clark?”

Clark’s eyes shoot open as he feels warm breath near his ear, Lex looking down at him.

“Just giving you some space to deal with all the _everything_ that happened. There’s a lot I still don’t know about you, Lex. And it kind of feels like the more I learn, the less I understand.”

Leaning against the wall, Lex asks in a low voice, “Are you worried my dark past is going to rub off on you, Clark?”

Lex eyes him with uncertainty, as Clark keeps his silence, “I was trying to protect Amanda. My father wouldn't have raised a finger to help her, but I knew he'd do everything to save his only son.”

“You took the fall for her.” Clark turned his head to look at the talking people in the Talon, away from Lex and his burning eyes, “She must’ve been a great friend.”

“She was. I'd do anything to protect my friends, Clark.”

Lex pats him on the shoulder, “But it's dangerous near me. To be close to me. For others to know that you're my _friend_ . I know that here in Smallville, for the most part, people believe in the good of others. But other cities? Metropolis? They're a _cesspool_ , and I don't want something to happen to you because of me."

"What, Luthors don’t have friends?” Clark bites his tongue, wincing at the harshness of his own voice.

“Exactly,” Lex answers curtly, “We have opportunities.”

“And what exactly am I an opportunity for? Why are you still trying to push me away? Are you even sure you want to be my friend, Lex?"

"Of course I do, Clark." Lex bites back, clearly ruffled.

"But you're still pulling away aren't you? How long have we been fighting, even if that’s not what we’re calling it?” Clark’s voice shakes, but he keeps his voice low.

He turns to see Lex silent and grim, and in that instant they both know, a canyon lies between them.

Despite their frosty silence, cheers go up in the Talon, and Clark turns away from Lex, “You’d better get going. I think people are going to start looking for you pretty soon.”

“Clark, I-” Lex shuffles, holding his hands to his side.

“Don’t bother apologizing, Lex. Not if you don’t mean it.” Clark smiles, large, wide, and fake, at Lex before he walks into the crowd and away.

Reaching the front doors, Clark slips out through a throng of people, and only when the streets are dark, and empty, blue and quiet, does he let the tears fall down his cheeks.

 


	12. Nicodemus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What's your deepest desire, Lana? I mean, if nothing was holding you back, what would you do?”
> 
> Lana froze a second too long, her pupils dilating, and heart racing at the sight of Chloe.
> 
> "To be honest I should’ve told you, I realized you were gay, earlier.”
> 
> Clark falls onto the floor in surprise, his voice pitched high, “What?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up everybody!!! I finally hit 100k! And we're not even done with the first season!!! I'm so proud to have made it this far, and I hope you all have enjoyed the wild ride!  
> Apologies for the late chapter, I had it done, but I just didn't have the will to update it just yet! I really hope you guys like this version of Nicodemus, especially because it is a lot to live up to! (it's one of my fav episodes ever.)
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the chapter, and drop a comment if it so pleases you!

“Intimacy is not a happy medium. It is a way of being in which the tension between distance and closeness is dissolved and a new horizon appears. Intimacy is beyond fear.” - Henri Nouwen

 

* * *

  
“Dr. Hamilton, what a surprise. I thought part of our arrangement that you didn’t drop in unexpectedly.” Lex took a sip of his orange juice, looking expectantly at Hamilton.

Dr. Hamilton wiped at his brow, a scowl on his face, “A situation's come up in my lab.”

“And? It’s still no reason to turn up at least without a call. What happened to the barn?” Lex said nonchalantly.

Dr. Hamilton shook his head erratically, “One of my experiments was _stolen,”_ he said, pointing at Lex, “By one of your employees.”

“Now, why would anyone at LuthorCorp know about your work, Dr. Hamilton?” Lex arched an eyebrow, stepping closer to the man. 

“He was helping me install some new equipment-”

Lex raised a hand to quiet the man, “What did he steal?”

Hamilton looked at him and sighed, “A flower.”

A look of incredulity passed over Lex’s face, “You're _kidding_.”

“It's called the Nicodemus. It's been extinct for a hundred years.”

Lex tried not to sigh, “I hired you to study the effects of meteors on Smallville. That is your focus. You're a _geologist_. Why are you wasting time bringing flowers back from extinction?”

“I irradiated the dormant seeds with meteor fragments, and the plant-”

Putting his orange juice aside, Lex spoke in a concise voice, “I want to know if there are effects and symptoms on people, Dr. Hamilton, not plants.”

Hamilton crossed his arms, “This is the first step in science. You don’t just jump in and start human trials. A base understanding is needed so that you know what to look for in human experiments. You know what? Either you understand that or you find someone else.”

“What's his name?” Lex asked as Hamilton started to leave.

“James Beales. I found out that he was in a car accident earlier. He almost didn't make it, but another driver pulled him out.”

Lex crossed his arms, as he leant on his desk, “Don't tell me it was Clark Kent.”

Dr. Hamilton shook his head, “No. It was his father, Jonathan.”

 

* * *

 

“Ma? Dad? I just heard about the-Oh! Gross! Ma, Dad, does it have to be in the kitchen? I use those counters too you know?” Clark screeched, cheeks flushing as he hurried to turn away from his parents. “There are some things, Ma, Dad, that your teenage son should never see.”

Jonathan laughs as Clark turns around, “Hey, son. Nothing wrong with a little fun every now and then, just remember to be safe.” He kissed Martha abruptly before he walks off into the living room.

“Ma, please tell me this is some kind of middle age crisis.” Clark struggled to keep his laughter in check, as his father all but threw himself on the couch with a beer.

Martha shook her head helplessly, “I wouldn’t even know where to start if it was. We went out earlier to the market, and he was shouting, Clark, _shouting_.”

“About what?” Clark asked, puzzled.

“About everything, anything, and how everyone in this town hated Lex because they were too stupid to see otherwise.”

“What?!” Clark’s mouth hung open from the incredulity. “He said that? What the hell?”

“Language,” Martha chided him, “Then he went off saying things like they look at you all wrong because you’re friends with Lex and that they judge you for it-”

Clark shuffled nervously, “You know what he’s saying is true, right? Uhm, people do get a bit...finicky because they know Lex is one of my friends.”

“Of course, I do sweetheart. They just don’t know how to let things go. Lex Luthor isn’t to blame for his fathers’ mistakes. I just don’t know why your father had to point it out to them. I’ll tell you, I don’t know what’s gotten into him. I’ve got to apologize to so many people.”

“Son, there’s a game on T.V, you wanna watch?” Jonathan said carelessly, making himself comfortable on the couch.

“What about the chores?” Clark said, narrowing his eyes, pretending to be suspicious.

“The chores can wait, this game _cannot._ So are you gonna join?” Jonathan patted an empty spot on the couch.

“No, Dad. I’ve got _chores_ to be doing-” Clark said, stopping abruptly when he saw Lex knocking on the screen door.

“I hope I'm not interrupting anything?” Lex said, pulling open the screen door and stepping into the house.

“Not at all,” Martha smiled at Lex and swept him in for a hug, “It’s good to have you around Lex, it’s been a while since you’ve been by.”

Lex gently pats Martha’s back, grinning, pulling away from her, “I’ve been busy. The work never stops. I came by to look for Jonathan.” Lex curiously looked at Jonathan and then to Martha, as she shook her head and shrugged.

“Whadd’ya need, son?” Jonathan asked, sipping on a beer.

Blinking at Jonathan’s casualty, Lex pushed on, “You pulled one of my employee’s out of his car today. I wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay.”

“Never been better, Lex.” Jonathan raised his beer to him, “You want to sit down and watch?”

“Sorry, I don’t have the time. Thank you for the offer though, Jonathan. If you’re sure you’re okay?”

“Perfectly fine, healthier than a horse. Drop by whenever you’d like. Hell, crash dinner if you want to. You’re already part of the family, Lex.” Jonathan then turned around and continued watching his game, leaving the rest of the Kent family and Lex in silence.

Walking out onto the porch, Lex questioned Martha, “Is he alright, Martha? He seems...”

“Like a teenager?” Martha says dryly.

“ _Different_. Not like himself.” Lex looks curiously at Jonathan relaxed on the couch.

“Different is right. I’d expect this behavior from Clark, he’s a teenager and teenagers are supposed to be mood swings. Clark’s convinced the mid-life crisis hit early.” Martha looks at Jonathan yelling animatedly at the television screen, Clark hovering over him.

“Take care, Martha, and call if you need anything.” Lex pats Martha sympathetically, before walking off back to his Porsche, Martha heading back inside utterly baffled with her husband.

 

* * *

 

“Seriously? Wow. I can’t believe it, even if I saw it with my own eyes I don’t think I’d believe it. Your dad’s always been so...steady.” Lana looked at Clark in surprise.

“I know. Ma even said that earlier he went off on a lot of people in the Market for not liking Lex. From her expression, I don’t think it was pretty. Aren’t I the one who is supposed to be getting into fights with people?”

Lana shook her head, “Clark Kent, you would never. You’re too much of a goody two shoes.”

“Well, it takes one to _know_ one, Lana.”

“Blasphemy. Who said I was a goody two shoes? I’ll fight them right now!” Lana joked with mock outrage.

Chloe ran up to Lana, hugging her from behind, “What's your deepest desire, Lana? I mean, if nothing was holding you back, what would you do?”

Clark watched as Lana froze a second too long, her pupils dilating, and heart racing at the sight of Chloe. Suddenly, he thought, a lot of things seemed to click.  

“Earth to Lana? Hello? Are you still there?” Chloe waved her hand in front of Lana’s face.

“What’s up, Chloe? What’s with the deep, soul searching questions, this fine morning?” Clark asked, distracting Chloe.

Chloe rolled her eyes, “Principal Kwan thinks that I need to get more in _touch_ with the pulse of the student body. So I've decided to do a poll. The results will be all anonymous unless the subject says otherwise.”

“Uhm what about me? Aren’t you going to ask me my deepest desire?” Clark teased Chloe, allowing Lana to breathe easy for a moment, a look of panic overtaking her.

“ _Fine._ ” Chloe pretended to complain, “What’s your deepest desire? The vice of your wanting?” Chloe taunted in a grand voice.

Clark leaned in, very, very slowly to Chloe’s ear, waiting until she was on the edge of anticipation.

He blew air into her ear. And then laughed, very loudly, “You’ll never know my wretched schemes. Now, kneel, subject.”

“ _Clark!_ ” Chloe grumbled, “You’re such a horrible king! I seek the truth! The epiphany of all human and gremlin kind!”

Clark didn’t bother to hide his laughter, snickering as Chloe attempted to poke him viciously 

“I know it,” Lana said, “I know my deepest desire.”

“Oh yeah? What is it then, Ms. Lang? What is your deepest desire?” Chloe fights off Clark’s attempts to steal the clipboard from what Chloe wrote on it.

Lana pretends to be embarrassed, “Um, I would climb the windmill down on Chandler's Field.”

“Really?” Chloe blinks, “ _That's_ your deepest desire?” She pauses for a moment, before scrambling after Clark when he shouts with glee at having taken her clipboard.

“Clark! Give it back!”

“Sorry, Chloe I can’t hear you.” Clark sang, “I have a bad case of selective hearing. Especially because _someone_ said my deepest desire was to dance in a tutu at the talent show. To Maniac by Michael Sembello. _Manic,_ Chloe?! Are you trying to murder my high school experience?”

Lana started to laugh, trying to speak through their fight, “S-Somebody told me you could see the Metropolis skyline from there.” Struggling for breath, Lana choked out, “I’m too scared to climb up and see for myself.”

Chloe screeched as Clark deliberately and harshly scribbled out his ‘confession,’ before finally letting her yank the clipboard away.

“I can change it if you want? Something more exciting?” Lana bit her lip nervously.

“No, it's good, it's good.” Chloe said shaking her head at Clark, “I like it. It's unleashing the inner Lana. The one we never see!”

“Right,” Lana said, laughing nervously.

“Yep,” Chloe says, waving down more people, “I’ve got to go! More people to question! See you later!”

Lana sighs as Chloe leaves and continues to walk down the hallway with Clark at her shoulder.

“So,” Clark says quietly, “Since when have you liked Chloe? Like actually _like_ liked?” Clark inwardly groans at his horrible terminology.

Lana looks at him for a moment, before continuing down the hallway.

Clark continues walking behind her, "I'm not against you, of who you choose to love, Lana. I'll support you 1000% it that's what you need.” Clark faintly touches her shoulder before pulling back, before muttering to himself, “I'm just surprised I didn't see it coming is all."

Lana smiles bitterly, looking him in the eyes,"You and me both," she says before walking off down the hallway, leaving Clark in an overcrowded hallway.

 

* * *

 

Jonathan smiled flirtatiously at Martha, “Hey sweetheart, what do you say you and I go up to the hayloft and look for some needles?”

Martha looks exasperatedly at Jonathan, “Not now. Somebody's gotta do some work around here.”

“Taking a day off won’t kill us, Martha.” Jonathan leans on the counter, looking at her slyly. “And Clark is at school. He won’t be coming home for a while.”

Martha snorted, “Do you honestly think we’d be able to hide much of anything from our superpowered alien son?”

“Aw, come on, live a little.” Jonathan whines at her, leaning in for a kiss.

Martha purses her lips, “You don't look well.” She says worriedly, as she touches her forehead, “You're burning up. Go back to bed and then I’ll make your favorite soup when I get the chores done, alright?”

Jonathan pouts as she starts to leave, and she chides him, “Go to bed, Jonathan. I’ll be around.”

Sitting at the table, Jonathan groans with boredom, before the phone begins to ring and go straight to voicemail, “Jonathan, it's Jim Alexander over at the bank. Look, I'm gonna be straight with you. I'm afraid we're gonna have to turn down your loan.”

Jonathan stands quickly from the chair to pick up the phone, “Hello, Jim? Yeah, listen to me. I have done nothing but give back to this community, and all anyone has ever done for me is screw me over. I'm gonna come down there to your bank and you are gonna have to turn down my loan right to my face. And I know this isn’t just about my credit, it’s because my family has decided to accept Lex Luthor isn’t it? I’ll see you at the bank.” He snarls into the land line before slamming it back into the receiver.

Jonathan swerves down the road, pausing unexpectedly as Clark appears in front of the road.

“Son, Clark? What the hell are you doing? I’ve got to get to the bank.”

“Dad,” Clark looks at Jonathan, “Are you even thinking about what you’re doing?”

“Of course I am!” He says, stepping off of the truck, “I've done nothing but give back to this town, and Jim is the last straw. This has gone on far too long and it’s time to push back, son.” Jonathan says, putting a hand on Clark’s shoulder firmly.

Clark sighs and shakes his head, “Not with a shotgun, Dad. Now give me the gun before I have to break it.”

“Son, I need it. I have to show them. We have to show them that it’s not okay to push is around just because of credit scores or because Lex Luthor is better than his father but everyone is too fucking blind to see it.”

Clark rubs his temples, before he grabs the gun from his father, “How about we go together and if we need it we’ll use the gun, alright?”

“Right,” Jonathan smiles, “That’s my son! What are we waiting for?” He says running back to the truck, “Let’s get going, Clark.”

Clark yawns for a moment, and smiles as his father promptly passes out.

 

* * *

 

Martha hugs his mother as the doctor looks at them sympathetically, “His symptoms indicate a severe anaphylactic shock. But we can't detect any known antigens.”

“What is it, then?” Martha asks, clutching Clark tighter.

The doctor shakes his head, “Truth is, if he'd come in just yesterday, I'd say I'd never seen anything like it. But we admitted a car crash victim this morning. A James Beales, showed identical symptoms.”

Clark looks at the doctor, “That's the man my Dad saved. How's he doing?”

The doctor tries not to wince at Clark’s words, “Not good. He fell into a coma an hour ago. I’m very sorry.”

Clark hugs his mother as she begins to sob, looking at Jonathan through the glass window.

“Everything is going to be alright, Ma. Dad won’t leave us so soon.”

 

* * *

 

Lana jumps out of Chloe’s car, busted flashlight in hand, “Okay, only mildly creepy.” She says as the flashlight flickers on and off, “Not that I don’t appreciate being in the dark with you, but uh, what are we doing out here?”

Chloe grabs her camera, turns on the flash, and begins taking pictures, “Well, Mr. Kent and Mr. Beales both have the same symptoms. And this is the only place they've been together. Correlation would indicate that there is something here causing the symptoms.”

“And if we get what’s causing the symptoms, we can get the cure?” Lana looks at the foliage surrounding the area.

“Exactly,” Chloe beams at Lana.

“What are we looking for? A steel drum? Alien parasite?”

Chloe chuckles, “Anything. Wow, the debris starts from way over there and ends over in that ditch. That's some serious road rage.”

Chloe follows Lana, taking pictures of the road, the flash brightly lighting up the ground for several seconds.

Through the blinding light, Lana peers at the ground, “I think I found something!”

Chloe quickly turns to see her digging into the ground before they break into laughter.

“One beautiful and intact Hula girl,” Lana rolls her at Chloe’s teasing, neither taking notice as the Nicodemus begins to spray them with its’ mist.

“Sorry,” Lana apologizes, about to throw the Hula girl away, before Chloe stops her, “Don’t throw her away. She’ll look great in my car!”

“Pfft. Want to keep looking? She may have a long lost sister.” Lana looks over the debris of the crash, clutching the dirty hula girl.

Chloe laughs into the cold night,“Well, she’ll have to stay lost. Let's get out of here, it’s just a dead end.”

“Alright, but don’t blame me if her ghost comes back to haunt us.” Lana gripes before hopping back into Chloe’s car, setting the girl down on the dash.

Suddenly they both sneeze, and break into giggles, “Jinx, you owe me a coffee,” Lana pokes at Chloe.

“What? No fair! The Talon isn’t even open!” Chloe groans.

“It is if I want to be,” Lana smiles at Chloe, “Lets’ go get us some coffee!”

 

* * *

 

“It seems you haven’t been completely honest with me, Dr. Hamilton.” Lex says as he opens the barn door wide open.

Hamilton turns away from his research, “I told you. It's under control.”

Lex throws him a skeptical look, “Two men with an unexplained illness, for which no one seems to know the cure, isn't my idea of under control.”

He pulls out a book, waving it in Hamilton’s face, “I did a little research of my own into your unauthorized botany experiment. Apparently, in 1871, a strange contagion struck the Morelly Settlement, and 200 people died overnight. A priest, who witnessed the scene left a diary. His last entries described how the settlers began acting out of character. He claimed a local flower was to blame. ”

Pursing his lips Lex read from the book, “On God's green earth, this flower was the thief in the temple, the silent temptress that, with a single sneeze, brought out the basest instincts in men and drove them to violence.” He then threw it back down onto the table, making the table shudder as it landed.

“That's just folklore in scientific circles.” Hamilton said, avoiding the conversation.

Lex looked curiously into the tanks, “If you don't believe in it, then you won't mind if I lift the lid and smell the flower. Would you?” He smirked, challenging Dr. Hamilton.

Hamilton held the lid down to the flower harshly, and Lex tsked, “Why'd you bring it back? Something so uncontrollable?”

Hamilton shook his head, “These flowers were believed to have toxins that, while deadly, might have other applications. If we can just isolate-”

Lex clenched his jaw, “I'm not here to bankroll your pet projects. I'm only interested in the meteors. Where they come from,-”

“You wanted to know what they could do.” Hamilton’s tone accused him.

“Well,” Lex snarked back, “Putting people in the hospital wasn't part of the plan. And neither was this flower.”

“Innovation has it’s consequences, Lex, you’ll never get anywhere if you’re not willing to pay them.” Hamilton

“Oh I am willing to pay, but only what I deem necessary.”

Lex masks his worry, his words cutting into Hamilton, “If Jonathan Kent dies, you're gonna lose something a lot more valuable than your tenure. Pack up one of these flowers. I've got a team of specialists in Metropolis waiting to work on it.”

“It's my research!” Hamilton shouts at him.

“I don't give a damn about your research. I just want to find a cure.” Lex then briskly walks away, intent on heading to the hospital.

 

* * *

 

Chloe frantically throws papers and articles out of her filing cabinets, intent on tracking down her leads.

“Chloe? I was thinking we’d blow off class today?” Lana stands lazily against the door frame to the Torch, checking her hair for split ends.

Chloe pauses for a moment, as she looks at Lana and shakes her head, “What’s with the new clothes?”

“I felt like a change,” Lana shrugs while smiling at Chloe, plucking the paper out of Chloe’s hands, “What’re you up to?”

“Just some work,” Chloe sighs, “Trying to find connections.” She leans on the table and looks to her wall of weird, “It’s hard though. A lot of things are buried more than they should be.”

“Yeah?” Lana asks with hooded eyes, letting the paper flutter to the floor. “How about you let me distract you?”

“I don’t need distractions, Lana. I need focus, answers, questions, _leads_.” Chloe throws her hands up in frustration, moodily shoving cabinet drawers closed.

Lana follows behind her and wraps her arms around Chloe’s shoulders, “And this is why you need a distraction. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how wound up you’ve been these days, Chloe. Come on,” She coaxes, poking her sides, “Take a break.”

Chloe grumbles, “You won’t leave me alone otherwise will you?”

“Never,” Lana murmurs into her ear, leaning on her shoulder.

“Right. Fine.” Chloe shrugged Lana’s arms off and started throwing papers and articles into a large folder before shoving it into her work desk.

Turning back to Lana with cross arms, Chloe asked, “So, how are you going to distract me?”

Chloe went along patiently, turning confused when they entered the pool, “Uhm, Lana, not that I’m not for sticking it to authority, but why are we at the pool? This isn’t what I think of when I want to have a good time.”

Lana pouted, dragging Chloe closer to the pool. “It's quiet. Alone.” Lana murmurs, stripping off her boots,“And off limits.”

Chloe chokes on her words as Lana begins stripping, “ _No._ We are not doing this. Whatever this is,” She says gesturing to Lana, half dressed, “I know _my_ Lana Lang would hate to live it down. Whatever weird teenage rebellion thing that is happening right now, I’m calling it off.” Chloe whisper shouts at Lana, before her face turns miserable, “Oh my god. I sounded so much like my Dad. Then I’ll start spouting dad jokes.” Chloe shudders before she starts pulling Lana away from the pool.

“Come on, Chloe.” Lana smiles at her, “We’ve barely done anything fun for ages. You’re practically a stick in the mud, just running around chasing leads like a headless chicken. I just want us to have fun.”

“We can have fun, Lana, just not here because Kwan will kick my ass off of the Torch sooner than I can-”

Lana envelopes Chloe in a hug, “You’re such a worry wart.” She smushes Chloe’s face in her hands, “Do you trust me, Chloe?”

Blinking, Chloe nods slowly, a noise of agreement escaping her squished mouth. Lana’s grip on her face softens, stroking her cheeks.

Chloe doesn’t get a chance to answer, nearly fainting when Lana pushes their lips together for a chaste kiss.

 

* * *

 

Clark walked into the Torch, and paused when he saw Chloe sitting at her desk, “Are you okay, Chloe?”

“No, I just want to figure out what this thing that’s happening is and maybe the world can go back to normal.” Chloe scrolls through her computer, as Clark starts speaking.

“Right. Do you think we should go look at the accident site? It was night time and maybe there’s something-”

“I didn’t miss _anything_. I took pictures and everything, Clark. And besides I’m fine.” Chloe said, grumbling as she clicked through pictures.

Clark sighs, then groans, laying back in a chair, as Chloe stops to look at her screen with more detail. “Wait. Clark, we weren’t the only ones there last night.”

Clark shoots up from his seat and hovers over Chloe’s computer, “Who's that?” He asks, mouth set in a grim line.

“I think it's Dr. Hamilton.” Chloe says, closing the picture and turning off the computer.

“What's he doing scoping around in the woods?” Clark crosses his arms, shaking his head.

“I don't know.” Chloe scowls, “But I have a feeling it's not just a coincidence. I'm gonna go talk to him. And can you go find Lana?”

“Lana?” Clark asks, “Why? Is there something wrong?” He looks at her curiously, and Chloe crumbled, against his inadvertent puppy dog eyes.

“I am the world’s _worst_ best friend.” Chloe flung herself across a desk, wrinkling articles.

“What? What makes you think that?” Clark tried to console a moping Chloe, tense with her mood swinging.

“She kissed me, Clark, and then I ran! _Me_ , Chloe Sullivan, ran away like a scared child! What am I supposed to do?”

“Well,” Clark stroked his chin, “Do you consider her more than a friend?”

“I-I..” Chloe looked at him dumbfounded, before she started scowling, “I like you.”

“What?” Clark nearly tripped over himself, “Still?”

“No.” Chloe shook her head, running a hand through her pixie locks, “I just thought if I could say it, maybe I could believe it again.”

Clark looked at Chloe warily, “Believe that you like me again? Chloe, what’s going on?” Clark asks unrepentantly before turning bashful, “If you want to tell me, that is.”

Chloe hid under the desk, unwilling to look at Clark’s face, “Well you see, back before Lex Luthor came into town, I made myself think I really liked you, Clark. Like I wanted to kiss you face off, that sort of _like you_.”

“Oh,” Clark pretended to be surprised, “And after?” 

“I still felt mostly the same, but then I realized you would never like me the same way, especially when every other word out of your mouth was _Lex._ ”

“Sorry Chloe.” Clark winced, sitting on the floor but scooching closer to the desk Chloe hid under.

“Don’t be,” Chloe grumbled, “You don’t even have to apologize. To be honest I should’ve told you, I realized you were gay, earlier.”

Clark fell over on the linoleum floor in surprise, his voice pitching high, “What? No. I’m not-”

“Clark, Lex Luthor quite literally crashed into your life, and it was love at first sight. I should’ve known sooner really, no one just fixates on _one_ girl like that. I even asked you before, remember? What would you see in an ideal woman, other than Lana Lang? And you just _looked_ at me, stuttered, and never answered the question.”

“But-I’m-Can I-” Clark tripped over his words, a blush creeping up his neck.

“And you look at his ass a bit too often, now that I think about it. Hmmm. I wonder why no one else in Smallville has noticed.” Chloe says with a finality, and Clark knows there is no changing her mind.

“I'm Bi, actually. But, promise you won’t tell anyone else?” Clark asks in a small, nervous voice.

“Well Bisexual, then, we’re in the same boat and all, no sense in making a hole.”

“So, you’re...uhm...Lesbian?” Clark doesn’t hide his excitement, “How did you find out?”

“When I realized I was doing the exact same thing you were.” Chloe says, slowly peeking out from under the desk, begrudgingly looking Clark in the face, as they stood up to talk.

“And that was?” Clark asked, pulling Chloe in for a hug.

“I was fixating too much on _one_ guy, that if anyone asked me what I actually liked I would freeze because you were my focal point. Liking you, looking at you in that light really made me think I could... _pass_ , like it was all a test I had bubble the right answers to. And I knew you wouldn’t look at me that way, so I was _safe_.” Chloe said with a shrug, leaning into Clark’s hug.

“And then you decided to become friends with Lana Lang, no matter her jock boyfriend that was out to get you.” Chloe took a deep breath, and trembled, “And when I looked at her for the first time, because let's be honest, I never let myself _look_. I knew that I was in love.”

“But it wasn’t supposed to be like this, Clark,” Chloe cries into his shoulder, “She wasn’t supposed to like me back. She wasn’t supposed to kiss me.”

“And why not?” Clark asks, voice sharp, “Why can’t you be happy with-”

“Because, what if it’s not true? You said your dad started acting strange, and angry and different, and now Lana is too. What if she wakes up, if she gets better, and it was all a lie?” Chloe buries herself in his flannel shirt, “God, Clark, I’d never be able to look at her again, our friendship will be ruined, all because I had to stupid-” Chloe sobs, like Clark has never heard her, and all he can do is hold her.

“I’m here, Chloe. No matter what, I’m here.” Rocking her in his arms, Clark wishes she would talk to Lana and never know such heartache again.

“Just please, go find her. I don’t want her to end up all alone when she’s dealing with this.”

Clark nods, slowly pulling away as Chloe dries her tears, “I’ll call if you’re not too busy.”

 

* * *

 

“We don’t need progress, we need a treatment. They’re all getting worse.” Lex sighs as the doctor on the other side of the call continues babbling into his ear.

“Lana,” Jess says with relief, “Where have you been? I’ve been calling all day. Monique called in sick and we haven't got anyone to cover.”

Lana rests a hand on her hip, arching an eyebrow at Jess, “Why is this my problem?” She asks with a flat, disinterested voice.

Jess answers back in the same tone, “Because Nell's in Metropolis and you're the assistant manager. Now-”

Lana yawns as Jess tries to speak, “Well, I'm taking the afternoon off, so I guess we're closing early.”

Lana lets out an ear shattering whistle, making everyone in the Talon jump in their seats, “Listen up! We're closing early, so drink up and then pay.”

Lex turns his head to stare at Lana, before grumbling before he hangs up, “I'll call back, but when I do you’d better have something better than progress.”

Lex stands from his seat and approaches Lana while Jess scurries away to take care of customers, “Lana, the Talon closes at 9:00pm. Not whatever time you want it to close.”

Lana rolls her eyes at Lex, “Today it does, Lex.”

Lex crosses his arms, and raises a hand to rub his temple, exasperated, he says,“You're talking to someone who set the bar for adolescent rebellion. I don’t like the new attitude.”

Lana shrugs nonchalantly, “More deep and dark secrets, Lex?” She mocks, flashing a fake smile, “How long until one of them hurts, Clark?”

“I am not proud of my past, Lana,” Lex tells her, “But it’s not any business of yours, especially on whether it hurts Clark or not. Unlike the Talon.”

Lana scofs, “So you expect me to sit by and watch my best friend get hurt time after time? Please. I always thought you were too interested in Clark, aren’t you?” Lana looks him in the eyes, “That’s why you bought the Talon isn’t it?”

She smiles derisively at him, showing her teeth,“What better way to get into Clark’s good graces, into his _heart_ , than through the people he loves? After all, what does a little profit loss matter if you have Clark Kent wrapped around your finger?”

Lex is stone faced as she speaks, “I'm sure you don’t know what you’re talking about, Lana. Clark and I are good friends, and good friends are all we’ll ever be. I don’t know what’s happened, but this isn’t you.”

Lana laughs, throwing her head back, “Is that you’re defense for everything? We’re just _friends_. Anyone with half a mind could see the way you look at him.”

Lana steps closer to Lex, invading his personal space, “I won’t let you hurt him.” She says, the smile slipping off of her face, “I know that somewhere in the Luthorian head of yours, you think you know what’s best for everyone. But you don’t Lex, and you _never_ will.”

Lex shakes his head, trying to regain control of the situation, “Lana, where have you been in the last 24 hours?”

“My past is none of your business, Lex. Why are you so scared to talk about what’s really going on?” She snarls at him, curling her hands into fists.

“I need to know, Lana. You’re exhibiting the same symptoms as other people. This is you, Lana, and when you wake up-”

“Why can this not be me?” She shoves him ferociously, “Because I'm not doing exactly as I'm told? Because I’ve decided that life if better if I don’t hide? For once I'm not scared of life, I’m not dwelling in the past, wishing I was buried with my parents. For once I am happy, and no one can handle it! Well, I don’t care,” She yells, “I’m happy, I’m free, and no one can take that away!”

Lex backs up as Lana yells, devolving into angry tears. Lana grabs a glass, ready to throw it at Lex, before a hand wraps around her wrist, and blue eyes beg her to put it down.

“Lana, are you okay?” Clark asks, face distressed.

She takes one look at Clark, at the glass in her hand, and cries harder, holding onto Clark like a steady rock in a overflowing river.

“Clark,” she croaks, “Why do I feel this way? What’s wrong with me?”

“Shhh,” Clark says, running a hand through her straight hair, “Let’s get you to the hospital, okay?”

“Lex can you-” Clark begins to ask, but Lana puts a hand over his mouth.

“No Lex, please.” Her voice starts to crack.

Clark pauses and shoots Lex a bewildered look, “No, Lex? Are you su-”

“Yes,” she says, unwilling to look at Lex, before Clark aquises, “No Lex, then. I’ll see you later, I’ve got to get Lana to the hospital, see if she’s alright.”

Lex nods as they leave, twirling his car keys on his fingers.

 

* * *

 

Chloe steps confidently into Dr. Hamilton’s lab, speaking with a serious but friendly tone,“Hello. Chloe Sullivan, Smallville Torch. We spoke a few times on the internet about the meteors.”

Hamilton’s eyes flicker up to see her, “So you’re, Chloe.” He says, before he goes back to reading.

Chloe doesn’t lose her smile as she shoves a photo into his face, “Can you tell me what you were doing out in the woods last night?”

Hamilton shrugs, “What I do there most nights. Search for meteor samples. I find it easier to spot them with flashlights.”

Chloe eyes him with impatience, “So you didn't see me and my friend.”

Hamilton throws his book down on the desk, “I heard voices, I saw flashlights. I know kids like to party, and as you know, I don't like company!”

“So, you weren't there looking over the accident scene?” Chloe asks, crossing her arms and tapping her feet.

Hamilton pauses, before showing confusion, “What accident?”

Chloe fakes a pleased but confused smile, spotting the title of the book he was reading,“I must be mistaken. Sorry to have bothered you.”

Hamilton narrows his eyes, as she starts to leave, “And what were you doing in the woods last night?”

Chloe snickers, “Can’t you tell by looking at my bags? I was partying with my friends.” She shrugs, and backpedals out of the barn, barely making it to her car before a wave of dizziness hits.

 

* * *

 

Martha walks out of her husband’s room as she sees Clark through the glass, Lex behind him.

“What happened?” She asks, watching as Lana was wheeled into the hospital.

“She was going mental at the Talon. Yelling, almost breaking things, really bad aggression. She's got the same symptoms as Dad and Beales.” Clark shakes his head, and looks at his father, “How's Dad?”

Martha looks lost the moment he asks, “He slipped into a coma.” She sobs, “The doctors don't know how long he'll last.” Clark wraps his arms around his mom, but she kisses him on the cheek and goes back to sit in the room with Jonathan.

“I've got doctors flying in from Metropolis. I'm going to do everything I can. I’m so sorry, Clark.” Lex stands by the window and watches Martha lean on Jonathan Kent’s comatose body.

Lex freezes as Clark begins to cry, hiding his face with his hands.“It's not your fault, Lex.” Clark bawls, his shoulders shaking as he tries to control himself.

Lex flinches as if Clark had struck him, the inadvertent guilt eating him alive, “I have things I need to do, Clark. I’ll be back.” He lies through his teeth, the slimy feeling of cowardice, and remorse drowning him.

Walking down the sterile hallways, Clark’s sobs echo in his ears, burning him with shame.

 

* * *

 

“So, why’d you call me here?” Pete grumbles, as Chloe smiles at him weakly.

“Dr. Hamilton had a copy of this book in his barn. It's a first-hand account of Smallville's first mystery. In 1871, the whole settlement went postal before they even had a post office.”

Pete huffs, “Nice to know Smallville was still whacked before the meteors got here, what does this have to do with me?”

“I need your help,” Chloe pleads, “I haven’t been feeling very well, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to drive. But, I have to solve this Pete, I have to.”

“In the diary,” Chloe says rubbing her sweaty forehead with a napkin, “They talked about a flower. The settlers called it Nicodemus. It liberated repressed feelings, sent them into rages, then fever, and finally death.”

“Let's say I do help you, just for some good old Scooby Doo hijinks,” Pete scowls, “Where can we find the flower?”

Chloe sighs with relief, “Well, see, after the massacre, the cavalry torched the whole settlement. The Nicodemus’ been extinct for over a hundred years.”

“And Dr. Hamilton ties into this how, Chloe?” Pete sips on a cup of soda, leaning comfortably onto the table.

“He has a meteor fixation,” Chloe coughed into her elbow, “In a paper he wrote about six years ago, he postulated that meteor rocks could be used to irradiate dormant plant cells.”

“He pulled a Jurassic Park on a flower of all things, and now he’s trying to cover it up.” Pete gripes as he stares at Chloe.

“That’s not all,” Chloe says nervously, staring at Pete,“Dr. Hamilton didn’t check out the Nicodemus Diary. Lex did.”

“Huh,” Pete shakes his head and sneers, “I should’ve guessed he was involved. I knew he was bad news. Have you told Clark?”

“No,” Chloe whispers, “His dad is in a coma. It didn’t seem like the right time.”

 

* * *

 

Lex steps into the barn quietly, turning the flashlight on, and heads towards the tarp covered tank.

“Where did you leave your notes, Hamilton?” Lex mutters to himself, “If those so called doctors are barely making progress, then I’ll certainly push it along if I can get a sample.”

Lex snags a stack of paper and shoves it into his jacket, slowly uncovering the tank with the gleaming Nicodemus in it.

“The more beautiful, the more deadly, huh,” Lex quickly takes out rubber gloves and a thick mask, tightly securing it to his face.

Calmly, Lex opens the tank of the Nicodemus, Clark’s sobs still ringing in his ears, as he slowly cuts a petal from the flower. He gingerly encases it in a glass box, and places it into his pants’ pocket. Lifting the lid to the container, Lex freezes as he sees headlight approaching the barn.

He curses as the headlights come to a slow stop, pushing the lid into place, but fumbling for a second as one of the vines wraps around his gloved hand. Failing to grasp the vine with his glove, against his better judgement, Lex tears it off, and winces as he grabs the vine, spines digging into his hand.

Biting back a groan, he rips the vine from his hand and viciously closes the lid. Heading out of the back entrance, voices coming close to the barn, Lex slips out into the night, unnoticed.

 

* * *

 

Chloe shudders from the chill of the night as Pete swings open the door, “Okay,” She whispers to him, “Keep your flashlight low. And be quiet.”

“You're an expert on breaking and entering now? You’re different than before.” Pete snarks at her, before he knocks over a broom.

Chloe winces as the sound rings out into the barn, but she quickly pushes it against the wall. “Be careful. And of course! People change, Pete.” She wheezes to him, advice muffled as she brings her elbow up to cough. She slowly makes her way through the barn, eyeing pages of paper stuck to the walls, and notebooks hazardously thrown about. Chloe sneezes as she hears something break, worry ebbing in her gut.

“Pete, what happened?” Turning around, Chloe holds onto the wall, dizziness overtaking her, “Pete? Are you okay?” She barely managed to turn her head, before a nausea climbs up her throat, the colorful Nicodemus taunting her.

Pete smiles cruelly at her as he walks into her line of sight, “You looking for me Chlo’?”

Pale, sweaty, and disturbed, Chloe tries not to shake as she backs up, “Oh, no. Pete...”

Pete sighs at her, a demented look in his eyes,“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

“You've been infected,” she whimpers, eyeing the door, “We've got to get you to the hospital.” She breaks into a run, but stops as Pete hovers menacingly around her.

“I'm gonna call Clark, okay? He can talk to you-” Pete snarls and throws the phone from her hands.

“What does it matter? He's probably hanging out with his new best friend Lex Luthor.” Pete tilts his head to a side, and smiles viciously, ”Give me your keys.”

“Why?” Chloe asks, “Where are you going?”

A tired sigh escapes Pete’s mouth, and he points the gun at her, “I'm serious, Chloe.”

Shaking, Chloe throws him the keys, and watches as he drives off in her car. About to wretch, Chloe crawls to the phone, and dials 9-1-1.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“I need help,” She whispers into the receiver, “I feel dizzy, and nauseous and I know this thing has been going around Smallville-”

“It’s going to be alright, Miss. Can you tell me where you are?”

Using the wall for support, Chloe smiles, “Yeah. I can do that.”

 

* * *

 

“How is he?” Clark asks, tired of seeing his father in a hospital bed already.

“Not good.” Martha can barely lift her eyes from Jonathan’s face, “Clark, Mr. Beales died half an hour ago.”

Clark frowns, squeezing his mothers’ shoulder, “Even as.. _.special_ as I am. I still can’t do anything, can I? Ma, what happens if he...”

“I don't know, and I don’t want to think about it right now. We’ll cross that bridge when he get to it, alright?”

“Alright.” Clark smiles at his mother, and she kisses him on the cheek, “I’m gonna go grab some coffee, do you want some?”

“No,” Martha whispers, “Are you sure you don’t want to head home? Get some sleep?”

“I don’t know if I can. But maybe I’ll try.” Clark closes the door behind him softly, freezing as they roll Chloe down the hallway.

“Chloe?” He tries not to yell, as she groggily stares at him.

With all his strength,  he grabs onto her bed, “What happened? How did you get infected?”

“No time, Clark.” She whispers, fading in and out of consciousness, “Flower in barn...Pete infected he’s scary. Went to Lex. Pete, Pete has a gun. Go. You have to _go_.” She cries as she rips his hands off of her bed, and weakly throws his hand, “ _Go._ ”

Shuddering, Clark ran down the hallway and into darkness, super speeding towards Luthor Manor.

 

* * *

 

Lex holds a book, the picture of the Nicodemus taunting him as he struggles not to shake.

“The Nicodemus existed for hundreds of years. Apparently, the Native Americans developed some sort of herbal antidote. The book has the instructions.” Hamilton, says into the dark of Lex’s study, trembling as he holds valuable knowledge.

“Where'd you find it?” Lex says with surprising calmness.

“Collecting dust in some old museum. It’s culturally significant, and one of kind, so they’ll be wanting it back.”

Flipping through the book, Lex sighs, “I'll get it up to my team in Metropolis immediately.”

The door to his study swings open, and Pete Ross emerges, “Nobody's going anywhere.”

“Ross, what are you doing here?” Lex stands slowly, noticing the gun in his hand.

Pete fires the gun, and a vase shatters, “I knew you were behind this. You pretended to be his friend, and now his dad’s going to die. This is all _your_ fault.”

Hamilton holds the book closer to his body, and feigns confusion, “What's this about?”

“Don’t act innocent! I went to your barn!” Pete screams at them, shaking as he holds the gun.

“He's infected.” Lex raises his hands, as Pete steps closer to them, “We have the cure, Ross. We're going to make everyone better.”

“Liar! Clark can't see it, the Kents’ couldn’t see it, but I _can_ , and you’ll pay for what you’ve done.” Pete struggles to aim the gun, hitting Hamilton as he makes to leave. Hamilton winces as the bullet hits his arm, dropping the book into a cindering fireplace.

“No!” Lex shouts, and then he turns to Pete desperate, “Ross, if that book is destroyed, you, Lana, and Jonathan will all die.”

“You really think I’ll believe anything that comes out of your mouth, knowing you’re a Luthor?” Pete trembles violently, shaking his head.

“I want to help you, Ross, just let go of the gun-”

“You don't want to help anybody but yourself!” He yells, “You come to Smallville and suddenly you're Clark's _new_ best friend. I used to think he was a good judge of character, now I know he’s not.” Pete monologues to Lex, turning in circles and waving the gun around.

Hamilton grabs the fire poker, motioning to the book, and Lex thinks fast, despite the spinning room.

“I'm going to reach in there and grab that book. If you want to shoot me, go ahead.”

Pete stops talking, and smiles brightly, “No problem, one less Luthor in the world is one hell of a present.”

Lex reaches into the fire, gingerly grabbing the book, and watches as Hamilton hits the gun out of Pete’s hand. Lex throws the book to him, and yells for him to leave.

Hamilton nods, kicking the gun to Lex before he runs out of the study.

Lex circles around Pete, clutching the gun, deciding to clock him in the head, watching satisfied as he fell onto the floor, unconscious.

 

* * *

 

Clark bursts into Lex’s study, panting, checking every inch of the study, and stopping when he sees Lex calmly sipping wine, relaxed on the couch.

“Lex.” Clark runs up to him, “Are you alright? Chloe told me Pete got infected and that he came here?”

 Lex takes a deep drink of wine, and gestures to the wall, “He’s passed out in the next room. Came in here with a gun and nearly killed us both. I managed to disarm him, and I knocked him unconscious.”

Clark falls to his knees, smiling at Lex, “I’m so glad you’re both okay. It kind of was the stuff of nightmares, if I’m honest.”

Lex sighs, and pats the empty spot on the couch, pulling Clark up to sit together, “It has been one hell of a night.”

“One hell of week,” Clark corrects, “Speaking of, we should get Pete to the hospital.”

“Can I have a moment?” Lex asks, looking into the newly kindled fire.

“Sure,” Clark says softly, unsure why Lex was acting different, and sat in silence.

Lex’s arm wraps around his waist, and Clark squeaks in surprise as Lex unabashedly feels him up.

“Lex? What the hell?” Clark chokes on his words, as Lex holds him tighter, pinching his ass.

“I’m so tired of pretending, of lying to you, Clark.” Lex whispers, hands crawling up Clark’s chest.

As he nears, Clark trembles, smelling the wine on his breathe, “Are you drunk, Lex?”

“No.” Lex says, running his hands through Clark’s hair, “I’ve never felt better. I don’t want to pretend anymore, Clark. I don’t want to lie. I _hate_ lying to you. I just want you. Need you.”

Clark feels goosebumps crawl up his arm, as Lex’s breath ghosts on his face, “Then why are you trying to pull away, Lex?” he asks, desperate to know the truth.

"Because it's not right, Clark.” Lex coaxes him to lie down, settling in between Clark’s legs, “These feelings I have are wrong. Society doesn't have to tell me what I already know." Lex’s hands slowly dig into Clark’s arms, feeling the muscle rippling.

"But what if I want you to?" Clark holds his breath, struggling not to cry.

"You may think you know what you want, Clark, but," Lex leans in to rub one of Clark's lips with his finger, "You don't. And if you ever change your mind, you'll drive me insane, Clark. You'll drive me insane and I'll never let you leave. Someone like you, with me?”

Lex teases Clark, kissing his nose, a flirtatious look on his face, “I want to devour you, make sure you never look at anyone else the way you do me." Lex presses himself against Clark, hard, wanting, desperate.

Clark groans as Lex presses his erection against him, “ _Yes._ ”

Clark whimpers, lost in the kisses Lex peppers down his chest, fingers beginning to pop the buttons on his shirt.

"I need you. It's hard to keep away from you. Everything,” Lex shudders as he pulls Clark’s shirt open and sees him bare chested, “It feels like everything is calling me to you. And I don't know why. You're a problem, Clark." He says flicking one of Clark’s nipples, clearly enjoying Clark groan.

Hands resting on Clark’s zipper, Lex smirks, "You’re a problem I need the answer to."

Clark bites his lips harshly as Lex slips into his pants, “Lex,” he cries out, whimpering as kisses and touches ignite the desire slumbering in him.

"Wait,” Clark mewls, Lex grabs Clark through his boxers and licks his lips, "Stop. You're not- you right now- you can't give consent!" Clark moans as Lex sucks on his collarbone, and strokes his cock.

"Oh, Clark," Lex says, ripping off Clark’s boxers with lidded eyes, and skillfully teasing his cock, "I've never been more willing."

Clark arches up into Lex’s hands, wrapped around his cock and eagerly pumping. Whimpering, Clark begins tugging at Lex’s shirt, aching to see Lex physically naked.

Tightening his grip, Lex snickering into his ears, as Clark loses his motor functions, and moans to the heavens. “Lex, _please_ , I want to see you naked too.”

Lex strokes him ruthlessly, before shoving his fingers into Clark’s mouth, muffling his cries, “You’re going to have to beg a lot more before you see me naked, Clark.”

Lex’s fingers keep pace with his strokes, Clark wantonly twisting his tongue around them and sucking. Clark begins to pant, pleading as Lex’s hand, slick with precome brings him to climax.

“ _Lex,_ ” Clark cries out, muscles turning slack, as Lex looks at him eager to devour.

Lex releases him, fumbling with his pants, staring at a dewy eyed Clark, with his legs spread invitingly. Cursing as he pops his zipper, Lex pulls down his boxers, hungrily kneeling in between Clark’s legs.

Lex kisses Clark’s neck, slowly, surely, showering Clark with sweet kisses all the way down to his belly. “I’ve been wanting this for so long, Clark.”

Naked in the firelight, Clark flushes as Lex presses his naked erection to his thigh, shuddering at the contact.

“I’ll never let you forget this, Clark. You’ll always be _mine_ .” Clark whimpers, Lex kissing him harshly, _needily_.

Breaking apart from the kiss, Lex’s tongue slides out of his mouth, saliva slowly dripping out of their mouths. “I-I need to say something, Lex.” Clark’s mumbles.

Lex closes his mouth around a nipple and sucks, blue eyes burning with desire. And Clark takes a deep breath, to calm his racing heart, trying to speak through all the lust.

“You're my friend, Lex. And this...love I feel for you isn't your problem, it's mine."

"I won't force it on you, or ask you to act any differently with me. This-" Clark arches upwards as Lex's hands tease his ass.

"-This is what I feel and I can't just make it go away, not yet. So, please, stop trying to pull away."

"Don't worry, Clark, I'm certainly not pulling away now." Lex crushes their lips and bodies together, gyrating against Clark with a passionate rhythm.

Clark whines into the kiss, desperately tasting Lex's lips, trying to speak his mind, "Before my crush, before anything else, you're were my friend first," Clark pleads, as Lex brings them both to an earth shattering orgasm, and he can't tell if it's this Lex he pleads to, or the ghost of his own.

"You don't have to agree, or reciprocate, - you can even hate me if you want- just please, stay my friend? I’m tired of fighting because of a kiss."

They both groan as their hips, brush together, riding out their orgasm, and Lex whispers into his ear, “I’d never hate you Clark. But I suppose, I’ll stop keeping my distance. I’ll be wanting much more than a kiss, after all.”

Clark sighs as the afterglow sets in, and Lex wraps his arms tightly around his waist.

“Lex?” Clark asks, feeling his head loll onto his shoulder

“Lex?” Clark shakes him, freezing when the sees Lex unconsciousness,“Shit.”

“This could not have gone anymore different than if I tried,” Clark grumbles, “I need to get him and Pete to the hospital I guess.”

Clark gently carries Lex to the bathroom before giving him a very through wipe down, and dressing him in Luthor appropriate clothes before running down to grab Pete as well.

“Well,” he says, loading them into the truck, “Here goes nothing.”

 

* * *

 

Jonathan watches his son sleep on the hospital chair, and wonders how he got there.

“Mornin', sleepy head.” Jonathan smiles at his son, his body feeling tired and drained.

Clark’s head snaps up when he hears his father wake up, jolting from his dozing.

“Dad. You're woke up. I’m so happy.” Clark tearfully but tenderly hugs his father, careful not to jostle him too much.

“Me too? Clark, what am I doing here?” Clark opens his mouth to explain, but promptly shuts it as Martha runs into the room with a beaming smile.

“Jonathan! Sweetheart! You’re up.” She hugs the stuffing out of Jonathan, peppering his face with kisses as he tiredly groans.

“Martha? What’s going on?”

“You got sick, Jonathan. The doctors in Metropolis found a cure last night. Apparently it was an old Native American remedy. I’m just glad they found something in time.”

Martha clung to Jonathan, stroking his face, and kissing his cheeks, as Clark coughed, “I’m going to go check on Lex. And Chloe. Or Lana.”

Clark smiled at his parents, and made his way out the door before he turned around to ask, “Hey Dad, do you remember anything?”

Jonathan’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration, “Bits and pieces, all pretty hazy. But mostly, no.”

Martha sighed, and placed a kiss to his head, “The doctors think because of how high the fever was you’d have some memory loss. Because you were in a coma, they don’t think the memories would come back.”

Clark listens with half an ear as his mother explains, walking down the hallway to visit Lex’s hospital room.

He knocks on the door and swings it open, stepping into a cold and empty room.

Nobody greets him.

 

* * *

 

Lana wakes slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It feels like she moves in jelly, a slow, insistent, and annoying beep beside her. There is a knock at the door, heavy, loud, and ringing in her head, and Lana wants nothing more than to go to sleep.

“Ms. Lang, are you finally awake?” Lana tries not to grimace as a white blob approaches her, not wanting to open her eyes any more than it would take to squint.

“Yes,” she croaks, “Although I wish I wasn’t. Why do I feel so...weird?”

“You had a very severe fever. We were lucky that you didn’t fall into a coma, Ms. Lang. Tell me, what do you remember of the last two days?”

Lana winced as the woman blob tried to shine a light in her eyes, forcing her to face the light, “Not a lot? I remember going to sleep Wednesday, and then after that it’s all a blur.”

“Anything else?” The doctor asks, getting sharper the more Lana stared, “Anything that was weird or unsettling, or mysterious?”

“No.” Lana shook her head, “I can’t think of a thing.”

“Very well. Thank you for your time Ms. Lang. My condolences for your memory loss, but hearing the gossip vine, you may consider it a blessing you don’t remember. It’s Christine, by the way, Ms. Lang. Doctor Christine Webber.”

“Right,” Lana nodded her head slowly, “Can I get some water?”

“Of course,” Christine said, “I’ll get one of the orderlies to bring some in. A nice ice cold pitcher. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have another patient to get to.”

Christine smiles, and watching her walk away towards another bed at the end of the room, Lana notes her eyesight was back to normal.

Laying back into her lumpy pillows, Lana blows her hair up, away from her face, and double takes when she hears Chloe’s voice from across the room.

“Are you sure you don’t remember anything, Ms. Sullivan?” Dr. Webber asks, scribbling something down on her clipboard.

“I’m sure. I don’t even remember how I got there,” Chloe says, and Lana can see her fingers drumming at her side, can practically hear the small taps they make.

“Well, we did find you at the side of a road. We were very lucky you phone hadn’t died, or I doubt anyone would’ve found you for quite some time. If you need anything Ms. Sullivan, please ring the buzzer.” Christine smiles at Chloe and politely excuses herself, heading towards the door. 

“When can I get out of here?” Chloe yells, “I haven’t even had any but I’m already tired of the Jell-O.”

“Just until the end of today, Ms. Sullivan, and Ms. Lang, we want to make sure you haven’t suffered any detrimental effects from whatever this illness was.”

Chloe groans, as Christine leaves but cheers upon looking at Lana, “Hey! You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“Like someone stuck me in Jell-O,” Lana notes, looking at the bland hospital walls with boredom, “I barely woke up and I want to escape. Why are hospitals so boring?”

“It’s cause they don’t have good t.v.” Chloe says, flipping through channels before switching it off, “And they don’t let you use the Wi-Fi. What type of people would deprive me of Wi-Fi? I’m telling you, it’s detrimental to my health.”

Lana grins at Chloe’s complaining, and then frowns, adjusting her sore body, “Do you actually remember what happened? Everything is a blur for me. I remember feeling happy, then angry, and sad, really sad, but I don’t remember what happened.” Lana purses her lips, and looks hopefully to Chloe.

“Your guess was as good as mine, Lana. I felt very paranoid for some reason.” She says shrugging, “And also, very confused, and dizzy. But I can’t remember much. I was researching something. Something important, but I can’t piece it together. It’s like knowing you made sunny side eggs, but when you turn back to get them into your plate, it turns out they’re scrambled.”

Lana huffs at Chloe’s explanation, shaking her head, “I guess it was a long shot to ask. Do you think anyone else knows anything?”

“Doubtful,” Chloe yawns into a lumpy pillow, “You know how distracted Clark is -” Chloe freezes, a memory of her crying and Clark holding in his arms, hitting her like a freight train.

“Chloe? Is there something wrong?” Lana asks, wishing she could stand to comfort the suddenly crying Chloe.

“Chloe?” Lana asks again, worried for her friend..

Chloe shakes her head, refusing to look up, as tears roll down her cheeks. “It’s nothing, Lana.” She says hiccuping.

“Are you sure?” Lana questions, feeling nervous but not knowing why.

“Yeah. It’s nothing you’d remember anyway.” Chloe smiles at her, and Lana’s heart thuds faster, in anguish or awe, Lana doesn’t know, but she worries, as Chloe quietens and turns away from her to face the wall.

 

* * *

 

Hamilton bursts into Lex’s study, gnashing his teeth with anger, “What did you do with my lab?”

Lex recline’s on his office chair, frowning, “I destroyed it.”

“How dare you?” Hamilton screams at him, indignation coursing through his body. “All of my research! Every-”

“You're lucky you found a cure and that the people who had a fever don’t remember anything.” Lex stands from his chair, looking everybit composed, even if he feels anything but,

“However, people are talking. I'm sure Beales worked for my father, and then there's Chloe Sullivan.” He smiles at Hamilton. It is not a kind smile, “We’re very lucky she had a fever by the time she made it to the hospital, or I imagine you and I would be facing an armada of reporters.”

Hamilton hesitates now, diverting his anger, “I'm sensing this relationship is over.”

Lex smile turns ominous, “No, Doctor. I think you're very talented, and talent shouldn’t be wasted. You just need closer supervision.” Lex steps closer to Hamilton, patting him on the back and leading him to the door, “I recently acquired a small research facility outside Metropolis. Cadmus Labs. It’s where you’ll be.”

“I suppose you’re not afraid of what might come of this? Opening Pandora’s Box so brazenly?””

“I'm just the key, Dr. Hamilton. You’re the one that will take the lead in seeing what will come from the box.” Lex shakes hands with Hamilton, and hobbes back to his desk, head spinning with fuzzy, half remembered memories.

As he falls into his chair, embers of heat ignite in him as he stares at his couch, a faint, nagging memory of pleading and sweet kisses echoing in his mind.

 

* * *

 

Chloe lays on the floor of the loft with Clark, nestled comfortably in his arms as he rubs her back soothingly.

“I told you this would happen.” Chloe spits, and then apologizes, “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at _me_ . I was- Everything is ruined. She doesn’t _remember_ , Clark.”

“I guess there’s no sense in telling you it’ll all be alright? I mean, look at me and Lex. I kind of-”

“Kind of?” Chloe asked, nose sniffling.

“I confessed to him a while ago. We even kissed. But Lex, he thinks it’s puppy love.” Clark growls, pouting up a storm.

“And are you sure he’s not right?” Chloe grumbles, poking at Clark’s muscled arms.

“I know what love is, Chloe. And I want it with him, I want us to love, and respect, and trust each other. Is it cheesy that I want to grow old with him?” Clark asks, side eyeing her flicking his muscles.

“Yes. So much cheese. You’re such a sap. How is this supposed to help me and make me think everything will be alright?” Chloe arches her eyebrows at Clark, wondering at his point.

“Well, me and Lex are still friends, despite the fact that I’m head over heels for him and he’s looking the other way. And maybe we haven’t been the closest friends lately, but we’re there for each other...when it counts. Even if it sucks, because he knows I love him and it’s unrequited, I would rather have him as a friend than not at all. If you want to pull away from Lana because of this, I-I won’t say anything, but will you be alright with losing a friend?” Clark makes the effort to look her in the eyes, his serious blue meeting with her cloudy green.

Chloe lightly punches his shoulder, faking bravado, “No one is ever alright with losing a friend. Especially me. But, speaking as a paragon of self awareness, I’d be a huge asshole if I stopped being her friend because she doesn’t remember.” Chloe sighs, curling into his grasp.

“I barely remembered about it, but it still hurts, Clark. It hurts so much.” Chloe’s lips tremble, and she hides her face in his chest, sobbing quietly.

“It’s going to hurt, Chloe. And that’s fine, but we’ll get through it, yeah? Do you want me to see if we can jog your memory more?”

“Yeah,” Chloe says, rubbing her tears away, a stubborn expression on her face, “That’d be great.”

 

* * *

 

Lex lays on the couch in his study, longing stirring in his gut, and tensing his muscles, a strange undercurrent running through his body.

He closes his eyes, trying to block the sweetly false images that flash through his mind.

Heat stirs in his loins at the thought of Clark spread on the couch, naked and hungry.

He tries to shake it away, to desperately think of anything else, but the image sticks with him.

A faint recollection of delicious tanned skin, pouty bitten lips, and long legs spread wide and tantalizing. Of dewy eyes, soft and warm, and syrupy pleas and moans.

 Shaking, he grabs his phone and quickly dials a phone number, “Mr. Raines, can I get the security footage for my study? Yes, right now. I need to check something.”

 


	13. Straying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No fair, Lana. You can’t make me cry.” He sniffles, the scent of Lana and roasted coffee burning into his memory.
> 
> “Too late. Now we’re both crybabies.” Lana says, sniffling into his shoulder.
> 
> "Y-you said you'd stay my friend?" Clark asks, hyper aware of how shaky and uncertain he sounds.
> 
> "I will," Lex says, turning his head trying not to look at Clark.
> 
> “For what it’s worth, Clark. I know you did a lot of bad things, but-” Ryan freezes up, and starts to bawl,  
> “I’m glad you came back. I’m so happy I don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, this is like 3 weeks late. I am _so_ sorry. Time got away with me and November is going to be a busy month, so here's to hoping I still get to do updates at least twice a month. I will immediately start working on chap 14, folks, so don't worry!
> 
> Thanks for all the reviews, although I've not been answering ~~sorry!!~~  
>  Hope everyone enjoys this chapter and don't murder me?? ~~please, I have family to feed~~

“Honesty is a complex and tricky thing, and we don't want to be honest all the time.” - Dan Ariely

 

* * *

 

“He checks out physically. Just scrapes and bruises.” Dr.Hardin says, flipping through her clipboard, tapping her pen on the side.

Jonathan runs a hand through his hair, “And his parents? Relatives? Does he have anyone for you to contact?”

Dr. Hardin shakes her head, frowning, “Other than knowing his name, Ryan claims to have no memory.”

Martha blinks at the doctor, “Are you saying he has amnesia? I didn’t think I was going that fast.”

Dr. Hardin sighs, “True amnesia is extremely rare. It's most likely post-traumatic shock. Collisions can usually induce shock, and if severe, temporary memory loss. His memory will probably return within 24 to 48 hours.”

Clark waves at Ryan, smiling when he shyly waves back, “What if his memory doesn’t come back?”

Dr. Hardin doesn’t answer, instead herding Martha and Jonathan aside ”It's unlikely all of Ryan's cuts and bruises were caused by the accident. By the speed you say you were going, and where you hit him, he shouldn’t be showing any sort of bruises elsewhere.”

Martha looks stricken for a moment, “Do you think he’s been abused?”

Dr. Hardin frowns deeper, “It’s what the bruises say, and what he doesn’t. Children who escape abusive and neglectful homes protect themselves. And in doing so, try to forget everything that ever happened to them.”

Martha curls into Jonathan’s steady arms, his blue eyes dark, “What will happen to him?”

Dr. Hardin looks at Ryan sadly, “We've called Child Services, but they're understaffed and can't come out until tomorrow at the earliest. So, the only place for Ryan to stay is at the juvenile cell at the sheriff's station.”

Martha shakes her head, “That's no place for a child, Dr. Hardin.”

Clark lurks just outside of the conversation and butts in with enthusiasm, “Then, can he come home with us, Ma?”

Martha startles at Clark’s bright smile, but beams back at him, “That's a great idea.”

Jonathan turns to Dr. Hardin, “Can we do that? Even if it’s for just one night, just until they pick him up.”

Dr. Hardin smiles at them, and speaks warmly, “I'll have to make some calls, but I don't see why not. It'd be a big help to us and I'm sure Ryan would appreciate it.”

 

* * *

 

Martha stumbles down the stairs, yawning with a fury. Tiredly, she shakes her head, and stops when she sees the dining table covered in food. “Clark?” She calls out, bewildered by his suddenly over enthusiastic cooking spree, and distantly wonders if he’s stressed about anything.

Ryan pops into the dining room, a bright smile on his face as he settles a pitcher of orange juice on the table. “Morning, Mrs. Kent. Clark is commandeering breakfast, so I thought I’d help.”

“Ryan, Clark, did you do all of this?” Martha asks, warming at the small smile on Clark’s face as he emerges from the kitchen.

“Hey!” Ryan exclaims, smiling while trying to get away from Clark’s floured hands ruffling his hair, “I hope you don't mind. I couldn't sleep, and Clark said he was getting up to do chores anyway.”

Jonathan strolls into the kitchen, tired yet chipper, a curious look on his face, “Hey, what's the occasion?”

Ryan blushes at their attention, “I wanted to make myself useful and Clark said it was about time he busted out the ‘cool recipes.’ He even made my favorite. Banana chocolate chip,” Ryan says, beaming at them and pointing to a stack of delicious pancakes.

“Well, it’s good you’re both getting along.” Jonathan smiles at Ryan.

“You guys can dig in,” Clark says, “I’m going to finish cleaning up real quick.” Stepping back into the kitchen, Clark starts to clean, smiling when he hears the clatter of forks and spoons.

Nearing the end of breakfast, as Martha and Clark pick up the breakfast plates, Jonathan looks curiously to Ryan.

“Ryan, are you sure you don't remember anything about last night? You’re a child, a good boy from what I can see, and I don’t know why you were out on Route 90, so late at night.”

Ryan ceases to smile, and instead turns rigid in his seat, “I said I don't remember. I'm not hiding anything.” Ryan quickly stands from his chair, and runs back to the guest room, leaving a tense air in the room.

Clark sighs at his dad, and Martha shoots him a look, “Jonathan! We said _gentle_ , we don’t know what situation he’s been in and we don’t want to drive him away.”

“I know. I know.” Jonathan grumbles, and helps put the dirty silverware into the sink, “But I thought if I could be straightforward with him, he’d be the same with me.”

 

* * *

 

Clark bustles out of the house with a basketball, smiling as he approaches Ryan.

Ryan sulks as Clark sits down next to him, “Guess your parents want me to leave now?”

Clark frowns as Ryan fumbles with the comic, “Why would you think that, Ryan?”

“Because they don't believe me. That I don’t remember anything.” He says, hanging his head low.

Clark hesitantly pats him on the back, “We just want to help you get home. For you to be safe, Ryan.”

Ryan looks up to Clark, eyes pooling with unshed tears, “What if I don't have a home? What if you found out I did bad things? What would happen to me then?”

“Nothing, because you’re a child, Ryan. I don’t know what you’re hiding, or if you’re hiding anything at all, but we wouldn’t make you leave. Everything is going to be alright.” Clark nudges his shoulder, and looks down at the comic with pretend interest, “You like comics?”

Ryan smiles brightly at Clark’s words, “I like this one.” He says, showing it off to Clark proudly.

“‘Warrior Angel,’” Clark reads, and then asks already knowing the answer, “Why him? Why not something more popular?”

Ryan shrugs, “It doesn’t matter if he’s popular or not, but he protects people who can't protect themselves. He’s good.” While he talks, Ryan tilts his head to the side, and looks to Clark with happiness, “I like being around you, Clark. It’s peaceful.”

Clark ruffles his hair again, and brings him into a hug, “Thanks, Ryan. It’s good to know I can now meld into one with nature. So, you wanna tell me more about this ‘Warrior Angel?’ What does he do? What are his powers? Does he have a secret identity?”

Ryan sits up excitedly, and out of Clark’s hug, flipping through the comic like a child possessed, “Well, Warrior Angel does this-” Ryan exclaims, and immediately begins to mime the action, looking to see Clark paying avid attention to him, “And then he does a combo! Like this-” Ryan says, jumping around excitedly.

 

* * *

 

Martha watches Clark play with Ryan, acting out dramatically his defeat at the hands of his arch nemesis, Warrior Angel.

Jonathan wraps Martha in his arms, resting his head on her shoulder, “That's a great sound isn't it?” He says, his voice warm and full of affection.

Martha looks wistfully to Clark and Ryan messing about the farm, “Yeah, it is. Do you ever think we made the wrong decision not adopting another child?” Martha asks, “Maybe if he’d had someone to share it with, he wouldn’t feel so..alone. He really likes Ryan, and well, we don’t get to keep him forever.”

Jonathan smiles at Martha, ”I don't think he's the only one, who likes Ryan. You always had a soft spot for strays. We can’t turn back time, Martha, but I like to think we did just fine with Clark.”

Martha grins at him, and kisses his chin, “We did didn’t we? I guess, we’ll just have to enjoy the time we have with him. God knows, we’ll all miss him.”

 

* * *

 

Lex shows no emotion, as his father bursts through the doors, closing the folder and laying back into his chair, “I thought you were still in Monaco.”

Lionel waltzes into the room with a brazenness that portrays his name, “The backbone of surprise is fusing speed with secrecy, Lex. I never give my plant managers a heads up before any inspection.”

“Von Clausewitz,‘On War.’” Lex recites from memory, standing and walking to the window, as his father invades his office and searches his desk. “What is it you have to complain about that you left Monaco to do it? The plant's doing well, and LuthorCorp stock is up this quarter.”

Lionel eyes flicker to Lex, idly opening folders, “I'm not here to complain, Lex. On the contrary, your performance lately has been... more than adequate. I decided Monaco could wait.”

A smile curls up on the corner of Lex’s lips, as Lex hides the happiness in his voice, “Say anymore and it could sound like a complement.”

Lionel turns at his words, narrowing his eyes at the folder Lex leans on, “I push you, Lex. I don't deny it. Greatness is a rarefied air one has to be taught to breathe. And I’ve been teaching you since you were born.”

Lionel closes in on Lex, putting a hand on his hip, “You know, Philip of Macedonia raised his son among lions to instill fearlessness in him.”

Lex smiled wanly at his father, keeping a close hand on the folder under him,“He also tried to impale his own son with a spear.”

“In an aborted coup attempt, yes,” Lionel stands still as Lex goes back to his desk to sit, “But history remembers that boy as Alexander the Great.”

Lex sighs at his father, “And which one are you again?”

Lionel’s false smile falls flat, as Lex questions him, “Lex. _Lex_. You’re not seeing the big picture. It doesn’t matter who succeeded who, but that they built an empire to last, to conquer,-”

“To fall,” Lex groused, turning away from his father.  

“Listen, to me, Lex. Don’t turn away.” Lionel walked to the front of the desk, facing Lex. “I want you to come back to Metropolis where you will hold the position Special Advisor to the Chairman Emeritus.” Lionel raised his eyebrows at Lex, “That would be me.” He finished smugly.

Lex leaned on his desk, elbows taut on wood below them, “At least the title sounds important.”

“It's more than a title, it's an opportunity. It’s more than you’d ever get stuck here in Smallville.” Lionel says, voice ringing in the air with a sincerity that would be hard to call false, if Lex wasn’t raised by his own father.

Lex looks to the colorful stained glass windows, ignoring his father for a moment of peace, “I'll think about it.” He meanders, watching as his father laughs.

“I don’t want you to think you’re granting me a favor, Lex.” Lionel stands confidently at the head of the desk, looking down on Lex, “We both know otherwise. I am...glad you haven’t participated in your _extracurriculars_ , as you did in Metropolis. This is a way to thank you for that. We don't need to play games, son.”

“Dad, don’t act like games aren’t all we have. Are you staying for dinner?”

Lionel shakes his head firmly, and walks out, “I’ll be waiting, Lex.”

 

* * *

 

Chloe sits up in her chair and looks at Ryan, discretely closing the window on her computer, “So, you’re a modern-day Kaspar Hauser. Never thought I’d meet one in the flesh.” She looks to Clark hovering by her side, “Do you need an invitation to sit or something?”

“No,” Clark shakes his head, “But you seem busy? I didn’t think the Torch would take so long to edit.”

Chloe smiles at him, “It’s kind of an extracurricular project. I want to keep it a surprise.”

“Right,” Clark nods, watching as Ryan read the Wall of Weird.

“Who’s Kaspar Hauser?”

Chloe leaned on her elbows, looking up at Ryan’s questioning gaze, “A kid from the 19th century with amnesia. He showed up in a German town one day without a memory of who he was, except his name, that is.”

Ryan idly looked through older editions of the Torch, “What happened to him?”

“Well,” Chloe winced, “Lets just say it didn’t end well. People really didn’t have good handles on their emotions back then, and well, it’s nothing you’d want to hear.”

Clark sighed, and walked closer to Ryan, “Why don't we take that picture? Then we can go do something fun?”

Ryan’s eyes flicker to the Wall of Weird, “You’re not going to put me up there, are you?” He asks, oddly skittish.

Chloe eyes Clark, and watches his mouth purse, “I’m not going to put you on the Wall of Weird. This picture is just to check against missing persons.”

Chloe quickly takes the picture, and Ryan jumps as the flash momentarily blinds him.

Clark moves to pat Ryan on the shoulder, “You doing okay, bud?”

Ryan looks curiously to Chloe, and tilts his head, “Why is she so nervous, Clark? She doesn’t want you to know about her computer. There’s something important on it.”

Clark sighs, squatting down to look Ryan in the face, cheerfully masking his curiosity, “She’s doing some extracurricular project, Chloe’s fine, Ryan, she’s a good person.”

“She is,” Ryan says, frowning as he looks at Clark, then his eyebrows raise in surprise. “She's not sure whether or not to go to the prom but if she does, she’ll ask you. - But just as friends, there’s someone else, I can’t see, but she loves them." Ryan blurts out, whispering rapidly and blushing.

“Well, we can talk about this later, where there isn’t a news hungry journalist in our midst, alright?” Clark rises from his squat, and playfully tussles Ryan’s hair, laughing at his false annoyance.

“Okay, “ Chloe says, raising her camera to take a picture, “Let's get a picture of you two together. One for the picture book!”

Curling one arm around Ryan’s shoulder, Clark smiles brightly for the camera, knowing it will be a memory to treasure forever.

 

* * *

 

“So,” Lana draws out her greeting, “I heard you and Whitney went out for a drive the other day? What’s going on there?”

“What?” Clark asks, “Can’t I just occasionally go on a drive with my used-to-be arch nemesis? Actually I don’t think we were _that_ bad, fine, frenemy, I guess. We were talking sports and stuff.”

Lana arched her eyebrows, “Hmph, _doubtful_. Do you know what he did? He came in hollering at me! It was three in the morning and he was hammering on the door!”

Clark burst into laughter, hiding his face with his hands, “Oh my god, don’t tell me he actually did it?”

“Clark Kent,” Lana griped, with her hands on her hips, “What game are you playing with Whitney that it makes him come hollering into my home at three in the morning about _monkeys_?”

“Pfft.” Clark chokes on his laughter, gasping for breath. “Why are you blaming me? I didn’t do anything.”

“Says the self proclaimed Gremlin King?”

Clark shrugs at her, “It’s because I’m self proclaimed that there are competitors for the crown. I am not alone in the shenanigans.”

“What’s with that look?” Clark pouted at Lana, and gave in, “He may have initiated a bet in which we do crazier and crazier things, and I told him, he had to go to your house, at three am, talking about monkeys, and then leave without explaining. It tests how much people love us. What did Nell say by the way? I would’ve loved to see her face.”

“The both of you are so lucky Nell slept through that. If she hadn’t you’d be running for the rest of your life.” Lana’s teeth snapped together ominously, and Clark felt a sudden chill in the room.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, but do you know why Chloe is avoiding me? Not like, really avoiding me, but she’s different?” Lana asks, clasping her hands together.

"We're still friends," Lana says, "but, it's like we're more distant now. And I don't know what went wrong."

Clark shakes his head, "I would tell you, but this is something you have to talk to Chloe about. Not me. Ask her, and she'll answer. It might hurt, but it'll be the truth, Lana."

Lana smiles at him weakly, "Thanks. I guess it’s do or die, huh? It seems like you're one of the only people who _ever_ tells me the truth."

Clark’s sighs, but smiles as Lana turns to look at Ryan reading his comic book, “How does it feel having a little brother type figure in you life?” She asks, “Is it awesome?”

“It’s fantastic, he’s a great kid, I almost wish he didn’t have to leave.” Clark looks to Ryan flipping through his comic and thinks back to when they were playing heroes and villains.

Lana looks wistfully at Clark, “I always dreamed of having a brother or sister. You know, someone to talk to, help fill the silence when Nell was too busy. It would’ve been nice.”

“Someone you could totally trust and would always be there for you?” Clark smiles at her, and holds her free hand.

Lana tilts her head, “It's just how I see you, Clark. A brother I can trust, and someone I can  depend on no matter what. You’re not always there when I want you, Clark, but when I need you, you find a way.” Lana reaches over the counter and pulls him into a hug, as Clark melts into her embrace, the phantom pain of Kryptonite shards prickle at his skin.

Feeling his eyes get teary, Clark quickly tries to wipe them away, “No fair, Lana. You can’t make me cry.” He sniffles, the scent of Lana and roasted coffee burning into his memory.

“Too late. Now we’re both crybabies.” Lana says, sniffling into his shoulder.

Lex enters the Talon, casually walking towards the bar, freezing when he sees Clark embracing Lana out of the corner of his eye,“Warrior Angel?” Lex pretends to smile, but feels a small spark of kinship with the boy, “I'm a fan myself. You must be Ryan. I'm--”

Ryan looks at him indifferently, holding the comic still, “Lex Luthor. Clark told me all about you. You guys spent forever on the phone.”

Lex raised an eyebrow at his tone, “You know, I have one of the-”

“Original first-edition panels framed in your house.” Ryan hastily cut him off, grumpily side eyeing him.

Lex blinked at him in surprise, “How'd you know that? Clark’s not into comics-”

“You're rich.” Ryan shrugs, unwilling to look him in the eyes, “That's what rich people do. Collect stuff.”

Clark hastily approaches Lex and Ryan, trying wipe away the tear tracks on his face, “Nice to see you two have met each other.”

Lex stands still as Clark approaches, tensing when Clark smiles at him, inadvertently checking him out, “Apparently, we're both big Warrior Angel fans.” Lex says, remembering the tapes in his office.

“I didn't know you liked comic books.” Clark’s lips quirked upwards, a question in his eyes.

Lex tried not to grin, wondering how Clark could act so normal with him, “Are you kidding? A strange visitor from another planet who protects the weak? When I was a kid, he was my idol. Especially because he was bald.” Lex says, gesturing to his head, “I have the whole collection.” He says, careful not to look at Clark.

“Maybe I can bring Ryan by later and we can check it out? It might be cool to finally have another nerd to talk about your comics to.” Clark teases, surprised when Lex barely takes the bait.

Lex agrees non-committedly, looking at Ryan mulishly leafing through his comic book.

“Would you like that, bud?” Clark asks, leaning into get Ryan’s answer, “Might be nice to-”

“Whatever.” Ryan huffs at Lex, only looking up when Lex frowns and walks away.

“Lex is my friend, you know? He’s a good person, and well, it never hurts to make more friends, does it?” Clark asks, gently resting a hand on Ryan’s shoulder.

“Don't even bother. He's going to leave. His dad offered him a new job.” Ryan rolled his eyes, before squinting at Lex’s back, “He has really weird thoughts about you. Like _really_ weird.”

“Well, everyone is a bit of weirdo, Ryan. And there is no way you know what he’s thinking.” Clark teases him, tweaking his nose, “I’ll see you in a minute, okay? Ma wants a donut, how about you?”

Ryan smiles shyly at Clark, “Yes, please. Chocolate.”

Watching Clark approach the counter, Ryan pauses, feeling heavy eyes and thoughts fall upon him. Heart dropping to his stomach, he races out of the back door, fearing for his freedom, malicious thoughts seeping into his brain.

Clark holds a small box of donuts happily, and then curiously looks at the comic on the bar. “Ryan?” He asks, turning when he hears Lana behind him.

“Ryan just took off, out the back. He looked scared, Clark.” She says, “I’ll make sure no one grabs your stuff.” Lana watches as Clark runs out of the Talon, and turns back to wait tables, surprised when she almost bumps into Lex.

“Lex, is there something wrong?” She asks, confused.

“Funny, that’s what I was going to ask _you_. You and Clark were rather close when I stepping in earlier, is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Lana nods hesitantly, feeling an old dread creep up on her at the look in his eyes, “Yeah we’re fine. It’s just Clark with Ryan popped up that old feeling, of wanting to have a sibling. We’re so lucky to have, Clark.” Lana smiles at him, ignoring the jealousy she sees in his eyes, “He’s like the world’s best brother.”

“Right,” Lex says, suddenly relieved taking a long sip of his coffee and walking away, leaving a relieved Lana bustling to clean tables.

Clark runs into the alleyway, already headed towards the garbage truck, watching as it begins to compact the trash inside, hearing Ryan scream for help.

He pulls a hose on the truck, careful to make it look worn through, before he sighed and opened a hole clean through the side of the truck.

“Ryan,” Clark says, relieved, “You’re safe now.” He speaks with a smile, as Ryan huddles into his arms, staring at him with awe.

 

* * *

 

Lex watches as Clark meanders about the barn, fiddling with an engine and couple of gears.

He gently knocks on the wood of the walls, his palms sweating, “Clark. Where's your shorter sidekick?”

“Sleeping.” Clark answers, looking at him with innocent blue eyes, and his mind recalled how lustful they could be.

“He thinks you're his big brother.” He says sipping on his coffee, savoring the delicate grind, “He’s growing on you isn’t he?”

Clark puts down a wrench, and turns back to smile at him, “We sort of are, at least until tomorrow. You know how it is.” Clark fiddles with his hands, “I know Ma and Dad love me, but they couldn’t be there for everything. If I had a sibling, I think I would’ve liked it. Don’t you wish you ever had one, Lex?”

Lex looks at the dusty floor of the barn, gaze far off, “I have one, Clark.”

“Really?” Clark asks, his voice intrigued, “You never said. What’re they like?”

“When I was eleven, my mother got pregnant again. It was a surprise for everyone. I'd never seen my father happier. When Julian was born, it felt like we were all a real family.”

Clark frowned at Lex’s words, leaning on the table, “What happened?”

Lex took a shaky breath, and flashed a wan smile, “The morning of his baptism, my mother found him in his crib. He had stopped breathing. My mother-,” Lex clenched his hands, a look of longing on his face, “-She was never the same after him. My father got more distant. I think he saw Julian as his second chance. A chance for him to have a son he didn’t have to rule, but instead to adore.”  

Clark’s blue eyes filled with tears, as he reached over to squeeze Lex’s hand, “I'm sorry, Lex. I’m sure you two would’ve been quite something.”

Lex only shook his head, “It’s all in the past, Clark. Knowing my father, he would’ve raised us to hate each other. But I didn't come over to tell you some Luthor tales.” He said, firmly putting his coffee cup on the table.

Clark blinked, and shuffled closer to a chair, and gestured for Lex to sit as well. Together they took a seat, and Lex enjoyed the silence, before Clark broke it.

“Then, what did you come here for?” Clark asked, his chin in the palm of his hands.

Lex sighed looking at Clark waiting in anticipation, “We need to have an adult conversation, Clark.”

“About?” Clark questioned, his gaze free of any guilt or lechery.

Lex closes his eyes, then takes a slow, steady inhale, before letting the air seep out of his lungs, as if it could calm the anger building in his chest.

He opens his eyes slowly, and Clark flinches at the furious look in his eyes.

"Words cannot begin to express how _angry_ I am right now, Clark.” Lex clasps his hands together, a small part of him prideful at the fear in Clark’s eyes, “Angry and disappointed."

"About what? And why with me?" Clark asks timidly, aware of the dramatic change to their conversation.

"With both of us.” Lex growls, “You _know_ what my father's like, Clark. And if he even gotten wind of something happening between us he'd be ruthless. I saw those tapes, Clark. I saw them, and I remember _everything_."

"Lex I-" As Clark opens his mouth to speak, Lex holds up a finger to silence him.

"I would rather hear silence than excuses, Clark. I almost want to ask what we were thinking, but we weren't. Under the influence of the Nicodemus, anything could make sense.” Lex stands abruptly from his chair, clenching and unclenching his hands, wishing he had a bag to punch. “Do you have an any idea of  how badly this could ruin your life? Your parents life?"

Lex paces the barn, and Clark holds his breath, watching the vein on Lex's head bulge larger and larger, "I can't even bring myself to lie and say I didn't like it. I can't. But, God,-" Lex runs a hand over the crown of his head, an aggrieved expression on his face, "I want you to know, that just because this happened between us, doesn't mean it can go on."

Clark hesitantly approaches Lex, and winces as Lex takes a full step back, his chest stinging, "If were going to have this conversation, Lex. Then at the very least don't lie to me."

Lex stands in silence, his face a stony mask.

"Please," Clark begs, and something in Lex gives, a jerky nod being his only answer.

"Y-you said you'd stay my friend?" Clark asks, hyper aware of how shaky and uncertain he sounds.

"I will," Lex says, turning his head trying not to look at Clark, "But we're going to need time. God, Clark, I can hardly look at you without- without remembering _that_.” Lex turns his head away, a flush crawling up his neck.

“I need you to understand my decision and _accept_ it," Lex takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes, "because if you can't then-" Lex closes his mouth, the words dying in his throat.

"Then," he says starting again, tongue heavy and unwilling, "We can't be friends at all."

"What the hell, Lex?" Clark cries out, slamming his hands on the table and faintly it begins to splinter under his hands, "You're putting an ultimatum on our friendship?!"

Lex shivers at the desperate look in Clark's eyes, "Tell me, Clark, would you have accepted anything less?"

Clark steps back as if Lex had struck him, the betrayal on his face, sinking into Lex’s memories, "God, Lex, you're my _friend_ , Of course I would've."

Clark blinks hastily, valiantly trying not to cry in front of Lex, "For what little it's worth," Clark says, voice quivering, "I'm sorry."

Lex smiles at him thinly, "Don’t be," Lex replies, tone bitter and dark, "I was the adult. And don't worry about the tapes, I made sure everything was destroyed."

Clark hovers for minutes, even as Lex goes about the barn, keeping distance between him and Clark, "Lex, can I-" Clark bites his lip before shaking his head, "Do you like me back?"

Their eyes lock together, and for a second, neither of them can breathe.

"You're still a kid, Clark. I can't answer that. I _won't_." Lex says, the muscles on his jaw clenched tight.

"Lex, I'm seventeen! I'm practically an adult, didn't you say you'd be honest with me?" Clark asks, feeling as of he'd beg for any scraps of attention Lex would give him.

Lex shakes his head, frowning deeply, "I don’t want to encourage you to continue what happened earlier. I will not talk about this until you're an adult, and for such a time that anyone can be thrown in prison, alright? We need to wait."

"But Lex!-"

"No," Lex says, and Clark winces at the finality of it, "Were you even thinking, Clark or did you come into some kind of contact with the Nicodemus too? I know it must've been hard to resist me, but there was a camera in that room. I know I have my own actions to own up to, and I will, but what about you?”

Lex angrily steps closer to Clark, “Your actions have consequences, Clark! What if I'd never gotten rid of the bugs? My father would’ve known everything.” His voice thunders, trying to speak sense into Clark. “I don't want whatever we have to hurt you, Clark. To hurt _your_ future. And I need you to think more about it too. I know you're convinced you love me. And I - I can see the appeal too," Lex says, eyes setting alight, "But we need to do this right. And it isn't right if it's illegal."

"Sodomy has been illegal since forever, but it's not like-" Clark interrupts, trying to reason with Lex.

"Not until you’re an adult, until neither of us can be prosecuted to any extent of the law for _this_.” Lex gestures to the space in between them, and Clark, so tired of fighting, gives in.

"Okay." He says, voice brittle, and eyes grim, "Just friends then, Lex."

"Thank you, Clark.” Lex says, the relief evident in his voice, “I don't want to hurt you, Clark. But I want you to think about your future, and I would never want anything to jeopardize the life you could have. Especially not me."

“There’s something else, too,” Lex hesitates to say, crossing his arms.

“What?” Clark asks, blinking away the tears,“Another ultimatum?”

“No.” Lex winces, trying not to look at Clark. “My father's offered me a chance to return to Metropolis.”

“Just what you always wanted.” Clark says harshly, hunching in on himself.

Lex opens his mouth to speak, before closes it, the still air of the barn suffocating the both of them.

“I thought about it, you know? Using this as a chance to run, but it wouldn’t be right and I think, if I did, you’d be just as stubborn as your mother. I used to think it was what I wanted. Now, I'm not so sure.” Lex took a hesitant step towards Clark, “I was a different person there, Clark. And a different person around my father. Being here in Smallville, with you, it-” Lex takes a breath, “-It made me _better_ .” Lex gives into his wants, gingerly wrapping his arms around Clark, timid, and ready to retreat, “He wants an answer tomorrow night. We're having dinner in Metropolis. And if I do leave, I didn’t want to leave with all of _this_ hanging over us.”

Clark burrows into the hug, willing to accept the comfort, even if Lex had slowly taken to breaking his heart, “Thank you. For not just running.” Clinging to Lex’s jacket, he whispers into Lex’s ear, “If you do decide to leave, I won’t hold it against you.” His voice falters, but he continues on, “Anyone can choose who they want to be, don’t let your dad decide for you.”

 

* * *

 

“Mr. Kent! What a surprise! I can help you with anything, except Clark corralling. I’m afraid that’s completely out of my depth. ” Lana puts the tray of empty mugs down, and smiles widely at Jonathan and Ryan.

“Yeah, I don’t come around much, do I?” Jonathan ruffles Ryan’s hair, “Clark’s doing fine, helping Martha with the house. But Ryan's been doing farm work with me all day, so I figured he deserved a treat. I'd like a cup of coffee, and give him whatever he wants. Just not a muffin or Clark will snag it for himself. And, if you can point me to the phone, I'll see if Martha wants anything.”

“All right.” Lana chuckles, and points to the green door, “It's in the back.”

“See you later then,” Jonathan smiles and walks away.

“So,” Lana leans on her elbows, “How are you feeling today?”

Ryan nervously smiles at her, “Much better. Thanks.” His eyes flit around the room, and Lana pauses for a moment, “Good. If you don’t feel well, just tell me and I can let you hang in the back, alright?”

“I will,” Ryan agrees, and then quirks an eyebrow, “Do you think it's okay if friends have secrets?”

Lana pauses for a moment, and huddles closer to him, narrowing her eyes, “Strange question. Difficult answer. Why do you ask?”

Ryan blushes as Lana’s face comes closer, “I think Clark's hiding something from me. I can’t read him.”

Lana shrugs, a what-can-you-do look on her face, “Everybody has secrets, Ryan, even good people.”

Ryan hums at her answer, “Really? What's yours then?” He asks, interest dripping from his tone.

Lana laughs and ruffles his hair, “If I told you, then it wouldn't be a secret.”

Ryan blinks, a faint image of Chloe smiling in his mind, “I guess you're right. Are you friends with her?”

“Her?” Lana asks, idly filling more trays with empty glasses.

“Chloe. Clark says she’s a great friend, but I think she’s a bit weird.” Ryan taps his chin, and startles when Lana stifles a belly laugh by leaning on the counter.

“That’s why we love her. She’s great.” Lana grins as Skye takes the glasses, “Thanks, Skye. You're a lifesaver.”

When she looks back to Ryan, he frowns heavily, and she asks, “What’s wrong? Why the upside down smile?”

Ryan looks to Skye, filling empty glasses, flashes of the till entering his mind, “She's not a good person, Lana. You should fire her.”

“Ryan.” Lana scolds, eyebrows knitting together, “Why would you say something like that about her? You don’t know her.”

“Because it's the truth.” Ryan says firmly, glaring at the wall.

“How do you know then?” Lana crosses her arms, looking expectantly at Ryan.

Ryan mirrors her actions, looking at her with the same expression on his face, “It's a secret.”

 

* * *

 

Clark looks through the foliage on the ground, looking at the empty road, “My mom hit him somewhere around here. Thanks for helping by the way. I know you’re busy these days.”

“Well,” Chloe shrugs, “One mystery is as good as any other. I’m secretly hoping this will get me out of my mystery funk, so I can connect the dots!”

Clark sighs, kicking a twig off in the direction of the backpack, “Everything about him is a riddle and I'm starting to think he may not have amnesia.”

“Clark, the kid adores you guys. Why would he lie about not knowing who he was?” Chloe asked, poking through bushes.

Crossing his arms, Clark leaned against a tree, “What if he's running from somebody? I wasn’t supposed to overhear but when they brought him in, Dr. Hardin said there were signs he’d been abused.”

Chloe frowned at Clark’s words, then paused when something caught her attention. Picking a up a worn backpack she looks at Clark, and rifles through. “Comic books and Twizzlers. How nutritious.”

Clark pretends to look over the backpack and opens the hidden seam on the side of the bag, pulling out a picture of Ryan and his mom. Chloe raises her eyebrows at him, and Clark rolls his eyes.

“What?” Clark asks, “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t hide something there either.”

“Only if I worked for the CIA, Clark.” Chloe carefully looks the picture over, “Who do you think she is?”

“I don't know. Mom? Aunt? Sister? It’s hard to tell, although they do look pretty alike.” Clark says, tapping the photo.

“The mystery deepens!” Chloe cackles into the brisk air, “I can try to run a search, see if anyone comes up?”

Clark smiles brightly at her, “Yes, please. Did you notice that sometimes, Ryan says weird things?” Pretending to be deep in thought, he pauses as Chloe turns around to look him in the face, “He said you wanted to take me to prom." Clark wagged his eyebrows at her, and then stopped, seeing the alarm on Chloe’s face.

“But as a friend-” They both shouted into the wind, laughing through the panic in their veins.

"Ryan said that? I can’t believe it!” Chloe tapped on her lip, murmuring nonsense before nearly jumping out of her skin, “Wait, so is that a yes?" Chloe asks, shoving him with her shoulder.

"It's a maybe, because you, Ms. Sullivan, have to talk to Lana first. She has questions you know." Clark shoves back, barely moving her an inch, her blonde bob swaying in the wind.

Chloe grumbled at Clark's insistent dabbling, "Fine. But did she say what she wanted to talk about?" Chloe asked with a worried look.

"Nope," Clark lied, cheerfully. "Now, let's get out of the cold, we've got a woman to find!"

“But what about Ryan? How did he know I wanted to ask you to prom? As a friend even!” Chloe asked, wheezing to catch up with Clark’s pace.

“I don’t know!” Clark shrugged, hopping onto the truck, “But I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask him about it later! Let's get going, time is wasting!”

 

* * *

 

Ryan rests on his elbows, the warm afternoon sun filtering through the kitchen curtains, giving a warm glow to the room, “Clark's the best thing that's ever happened to you, isn't he?” He asks, looking up to Martha curiously.

Martha stops peeling apples for a moment, before looking at him fondly, “Yeah, he is.”

“He makes up for not being able to have your own kids.” Ryan says, eyes dimming at Martha’s sadness.

Martha’s smile turns brittle, her few words speaking paragraphs, even as her eyes gain a wet sheen, “He does.”

“Has he always been so strong?” Ryan asks, scrunching his eyebrows in concentration.

Martha startles, but plays it off, trying to concentrate on peeling the apples, “What do you mean?” She says, unable to look Ryan in the eyes.

Ryan’s eyes narrow, as he tries to school his expression, “He tore off the back panel of the garbage truck and saved me.”

Martha looks him in the eyes, smiling, and lies, “Don't be silly.” She says,“Humans can’t do that.”

“If you say so. Say, what's your greatest fear?” Ryan asks one last question, and stills when she answers.

Martha smiles at him, seemingly unafraid, but Ryan knows her thoughts, even when she speaks a lie, “That I won't get this pie done by the time you have to leave. Why don't you go outside and shoot some hoops?” As he turns to leave, Ryan can see her thoughts, of how afraid she is, and he regrets asking even if he has what he wants. He has never met a family, so good yet so afraid of the world then the Kents'.

Clark heads down the steps of the cellar, and closes the door behind him, strangely calm when he sees Ryan kneeling at the side of his spaceship.

“What are you doing down here? How’d you know about this?” Clark asks, and watches as Ryan shrinks in on himself.

“I read it in your mom’s mind. I wanted to see for myself.” Ryan mumbles, lowering his head in fear.

“Can you hear everything people think?” Clark asks, knowing it would make Ryan open up a bit more.

“Only what's on the surface, what they're thinking at that moment. Except for you. I can't read your mind. That's how I knew you were different. Now, I know why.” Ryan says, slowly stepping closer to Clark.

"Try harder.” Clark asks, “The hardest you've ever tried." Clark says, squeezing Ryan into an embrace.

Ryan sinks into him, concentrating, and the world around him ebbs strangely, ceasing to be.

Clark holds him carefully, rocking the small boy in his arms, as the sun sets on the Kent Farm.

Waking slowly, Ryan sobs weakly into Clark’s arms, "Why are you alone? Why couldn’t you have taken someone with you?"

When Clark speaks, his voice rattles and quivers with gravitas, and Ryan shudders against his chest.

Ryan knows now, why there is a quiet solemness in him. Sorrow, _anger_ , happiness, and remorse always at war with each other. "Because this is my choice.” Clark says into the dusty cellar, gently running a hand through his hair, “And my burden. It is my absolution and damnation. However many I save, however many I gave the choice to start anew, it will never matter. I have already killed them all, and in doing so, killed the future that should’ve happened."

“Will I have to be like you?" Ryan sniffled, holding Clark close, "If my powers get stronger?"

"No, Ryan. _Never._ Becoming a superhero is a choice we all make, and decide to make every day of our lives. You could choose to wear a mask, and put on a suit, or you could live a normal life. No one can take away that choice from you, Ryan. Not even me." Clark presses a kiss to his head, his words calming the panic in Ryan.

"Will the same happen to me again?" Ryan asks, and he is afraid, yet resigned to the future ahead of him.

"No," Clark whispers, resting his chin on Ryan’s head, "You're safe. And if you ever need me, just call, okay?"

Ryan squeezed Clark tighter, "Okay."

“For what it’s worth, Clark. I know you did a lot of bad things, but-” Ryan freezes up, and starts to bawl, “I’m glad you came back. I’m so happy I don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

Clark doesn’t answer, rocking Ryan back and forth in his arms, afraid of what will come out of his mouth if he does.

 

* * *

 

Clark waits on the porch as his father heads inside, enjoying the cool night air. Seeing a limo drive up, Clark makes his way down the stairs, nodding when Lex gets out holding a sheathed sword.

“On your way to Metropolis, then?” Clark asks gently, wondering, hoping, and planning just in case their paths diverge earlier.

“Yeah.” Lex smirks at him, as he squeezes the sword tightly, “The big dinner.” He says quietly, “Listen, I wanted you to have something.” Lex hands the foil to Clark, looking at him with ambivalence.

Clark smiles at the gift, “A foil?” He says, slowly unsheathing it to see his reflection.

“Yeah,” Lex says, surprised, “Every hero should have one.”

“What?” Clark asks at Lex’s expression, “I pay attention when you go on your sword rants. Although I don’t know why you like imperial swords so much. I guess this means you’re leaving?”

Lex looks oddly touched, and warm at Clark’s words, “I haven’t made my mind up. I’ll make my decision at dinner.”

“If you haven’t made up your mind, why are you give me a going-away present?” Clark asks, pursing his lips.

“Just in case, Clark. I’d rather not do something so impersonal as sending flowers. Keep it away from the kid, alright? It’s a real foil.”

“He’s already gone.” Clark shrugs at him,

Lex expression turns regretful, “I'm sorry. I know how much you liked him, and being a big brother.”

“I’ll be alright. I’ve got a cool foil to mess with. Maybe I’ll chop some wood.” Clark jokes, laughing at the despair on Lex’s face.

“Don’t you dare, Clark Kent. You know, maybe I’ll send those flowers after all.” Lex gnashes his teeth, pretending to be enraged.

Finished laughing, Clark pulls Lex in for a quick hug, suddenly contemplative, “Whatever you choose, Lex, I hope the choice will have been sweeter for being yours."

Holding Lex close to him, and breathing in his scent, it feels a lot more like goodbye than Clark ever wanted it to.

 

* * *

 

Slowly, and with great concentration, Clark swings the foil through the air, mimicking a style of sword play he’d seen Lex use in the future.

Chloe bounds up the stairs, watching Clark pace through his steps, “‘Sup, Zorro, what's with the sword?”

Clark stills immediately, and sheathes the it completely, turning to see Chloe. “It's a foil.”

Chloe crosses her arms, looking at the foil curiously, “I'm guessing it's a gift from our favorite millionaire playboy?”

“Unless you know one who lives in Gotham, yeah. Did you know he's thinking of moving back to Metropolis?”

“Well,” Chloe moves to pat his arm, “I'm still here, Clark. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Thanks, Chlo.’ Bestest Bestie, ever.” Clark puts aside his foil, leaning it next to the bookcase.

“Have you talked to Lana yet?” Clark asks, raising an eyebrow at Chloe’s wince.

“No, it’s just so hard. How am I supposed to bring up anything that happened with the Nicodemus, when she can just tell me I’m making it up? I think I’d rather die.” Chloe shrugs away her fear with nonchalance, and Clark frowns.

“Well, Lana is going to _do_. And eventually she will get you alone, Chloe. It’s better now, then when she’s spitting fire.”

Chloe grumbles at him, “Fine. I’ll talk to Lana tomorrow. I have stuff that I need to finish tonight. In other news, my sources at the sheriff's office have given me a heads-up on Ryan's Step-dad.”

“And what did these sources have to say?” Clark leans into Chloe’s space, narrowing his eyes.

“Ryan's step-dad is a real catch.” She says pulling out a photo, and showing him a mugshot,“He's a career criminal. Certainly not parent material.”

“You look kind of spooked, you alright, Clark?” Chloe asked, poking Clark’s face.

“I’m not entirely certain,” Clark says, tapping the photo of Ryan’s step father, “But I think he was Lex’s limo driver.”

“Holy shit. We gotta go.” Chloe says, and together they run down the stairs.

Lying on the street, Lex winces as he tries to sit up, and startles at the cars hurtling towards him. Abruptly they stop, and Clark runs to where Lex is, helping him stand.

“Lex? Are you okay?” Clark asks, holding Lex’s bruised face in his hands.

“Yeah, I think so.” He says, wincing at the stitch in his side.

“Anything feel broken, Lex?” Chloe asks, popping up beside Clark.

“Which way did they go, Lex?” Clark asks, voice desperate.

Lex winces at the volume of their voices, “Straight down Route 90. Clark, they've got Ryan.” Lex’s eyes unfocused, as Clark runs to is truck and speeds away, and Chloe helps him walk to her car.

 

* * *

 

Clark abandons the truck, hiding it with nearby vegetation, and super speeds towards Ryan, through the doors of the bowling alley and into the man pointing a gun at him.

“Ryan! Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Clark asks, spewing questions while he wraps his arms around Ryan.

“No. I’m fine. I’m safe now, remember?” Ryan says, tightly squeezing Clark into a hug.

 

* * *

 

“Lana!” Clark walks into the Talon, Ryan all but skipping beside him, “Guess who wants to say goodbye?”

Lana beams at Ryan, “Hey, where are you going?”

Ryan smiles back at her, “Edge City.”

Clark sits down at the counter, “Chloe's research turned up an aunt who lives there. She's coming by this afternoon.”

“That’s fantastic!” Lana excitedly speaks, and then turns to Ryan, “I wanted to thank you for your advice on Skye. You were right. She was stealing from the till.”

Bending down, Clark snickers as Lana kissed Ryan on the cheek and he turns beet red.

As Lana goes to wait tables, Ryan gives Lana heart eyes, and sighs, “I think I’m in love.”

Clark bursts into laughter, “Well, be careful,” Clark tries to stifle his laugh, “You’re not the only contender.”

 

* * *

 

When Lex enters his study, his father waits for him on the couch, and he sighs, putting his newspaper and juice on his desk.

“Shouldn't you be packing?” Lionel all but orders, looking at Lex with an unfathomable gaze.

“I'm not going back to Metropolis.” Lex says, as his Lionel starts to laugh.

“That's all you've wanted since I assigned you to what you so eloquently refer to as ‘The Crap Factory.’ Have those mad cows finally got to you, Lex? Isn’t this what you’ve been working so hard for?” Lionel tries to sway him, walking with the confidence of a Luthor.

“Well,” Lex turns to face his father, and walks away, deliberately putting distance between them, “That was then, and this is _now_. I know why you want me back.” Lex says, demeanor uncharacteristically bright, “I'm driving you crazy, aren't I? I'm not clubbing till 6 A.M, I haven’t even been arrested once, since I got here. I'm on track.” Stepping closer to his father, Lex’s voice is suave and chilling, “And that's what scares you. You want me back where you can keep an eye on me. Make sure I don’t get to ahead of myself, yes?”

“You're making a mistake, Lex.” Lionel growls softly at him, “Just agree and we can move past this.”

“You raised me to breath greatness like those emperors you’re so fond of. And yet, the one thing they were all afraid of was that their sons would become successful and return to Rome with their own army. So, some chained them, some tried to have them assassinated. What will you do?” Lex asked, tensing at the look in his father’s eyes.

Lionel sneered, even as his voice turned warm, trying to tempt him in any way he could, “There is no future for you in Smallville. I'm your future. Join me, Lex. Join me in Metropolis. How long have you been waiting to hear _me_ say those words?”

Looking into his father’s eyes and seeing nothing of a father in them, Lex felt the bitter seed of disappointment grow, “Trust me, I've waited to hear other things from you for a lot longer. I'll return to Metropolis when I'm ready and not a moment, sooner.”

“At the head of an army?” Lionel mocks, bearing a smile like a death sentence, Lex’s lips quirk upwards but he doesn’t speak, preferring to watch his father leave with smug vindication.

 

* * *

 

Martha squeezes Ryan’s hands, “We're really going to miss you, Ryan. It gets cold in Edge City, so I packed some of Clark's old jackets. Something for you to grow into.” Martha says patting the backpack she packed for him.

“Thanks, Mrs. Kent.” Ryan smiles at her, basking in the warmth, and good, of the Kents’ thoughts.

“You're welcome around here any time you want. Just call and we’ll come pick you up, alright?” Jonathan says, even as a small thread of uncertainty, worms around his mind.

“I know you're worried but you don’t have to be. I'll keep Clark's secret, and he’ll keep mine. I know what it's like to have to hide who you are from the world.” Ryan says, looking them in the eyes, and hearing their gratefulness.

“There she is!” Martha exclaims as Ryan’s aunt pulls up to the farm, and Jonathan follows behind her, holding the backpack.

Ryan gently holds Clark’s hand, "I think I was wrong about Lex. He’s struggling. He wants to change, to be different than the man who raised him. And he loves you, you know. But he can't help but feel that it's wrong. That he _shouldn't_. You'll have to wait for him. Until he's ready. I know it's probably not what you want to hear-"

Clark exhales through his nose, "But it's something I need to. Sometimes I wonder if I should just stop pushing, but one part of me will always wonder, what if?"

Clark ruffles Ryan's hair, "Thanks for the advice, call if you're ever in trouble. And-" Clark chokes up, holding Ryan tight, thoughts of Ryan’s future running through his mind.

"I'll do the most I can with the time that's given to me, Clark. I guess, knowing when it's gonna end just makes every second that much more precious. Thank you for caring for me again. I know you didn't have to. You could've spared yourself the pain, but you didn't.”

Squeezing Clark’s hand tightly, Ryan knows that time is against him, “I want you to know I still think you’re good. I know you've committed a lot of wrong, but so have a lot of other countless versions of people. I guess, what I'm trying to say is, I hope it all pays off.I hope that you end up doing even more good this time. Even if I won't be around to see it."

Ryan snuggles into Clark's embrace for one last time, and Clark's sinks into his parents' embraces tearful and proud as Ryan walks away to his Aunt cheekily mouthing, “See you, later, Superman.”

Clark laughs, thankful to have given Ryan another chance.


	14. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyler Randall cries as he speaks, unloading all his troubles onto a teenager with kind eyes.
> 
> Lex attempts to smother his smile, “I didn’t think you’d be so into fishing, " He remarks, sipping his coffee. Clark beams back.
> 
> “God,” Whitney complained into Clark’s shoulder, sobbing,  
> “Stop sounding like some wise ass. Just cry with me and stay for dinner.”
> 
> “We could all use nice shirts, Jonathan. A new one every year won’t kill you, will it?” Lex teases the older man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a day late? What witchcraft is this?? Lol, I must be getting my shit together if it's only a day late...  
> I just really love this chapter, and it was a whammy to make because most of it was from scratch, not using a bare boned plot of a Smallville episode.  
> I hope you guys are all enjoying the characters, as I shape them, and make them to be rather different from their Canon counterparts!  
> There's 2-3 chapters before everything starts picking up, season finale anyone?? Can anyone guess what's going to happen?? Hmmm??  
> Hope you all enjoy the chapter, and like it enough to leave a comment! <3

“Change comes slowly, or all at once.”

 

* * *

 

A boy shuffles around the bed, quietly organizing the hospital room, as the woman sleeps on the bed. He gently rearranges the furniture, making the room look less messy, and shifting the curtains so no outside light annoys the patients.

Tyler Randall steps into the hospital room, softly closing the door behind him and startling as he notices a boy clean the room.

“Can I help you?” Tyler Randall asks, looking at the boy with suspicion.

“Oh, hello, are you Tyler?” The boy asks, blue eyes flickering to stare at Rose, “Rose talks a lot about you. It’s nice to meet you. I’m volunteering at the hospital and this is my last room for tonight.”

“Right,” Tyler nods slowly, feeling weary and tired, “Thank you for helping then.”

“It’s no problem. It’s good to help where I can.” The boy smiles at him, and starts to sweep the floor, and organize books on the cabinet.

Rose Randall moans in pain, and opens her eyes to see her son hovering over her bedridden form, “Tyler,” She smiles at him, stroking his cheek fondly, “I’ve missed you, son.”

Tyler smiles at his mother, a tired smile on his face, “I missed you too, Mom. Did you get my postcards?”

“I did,” She nods weakly, “The nice young man has been organizing them for me. Helped me make a scrapbook.” She laughs, but it quickly turns into a cough.

“Should I get the doctor?” Tyler looks to the volunteer, a questioning look on his face.

“No need,” The boy says, “The head nurse told me to give her scheduled pill dosages. Ms. Rose? It’s time for your pills okay? It’ll help with the pain. I promise.” He says in a kind whisper.

Sitting up, Rose’s hands shake as she drops the pills in her mouth, and takes a shallow sip of water. “Thank you, dearie. I think I might go back to sleep. Those blasted pills always make me want to sleep.”

“What time are visiting hours over?” Tyler asks, holding his mothers’ hand.

“I can set you up to stay overnight if you want?” The boy says, “She’s missed you and I can roll out the couch and get you a couple of the nice pillows?”

“That sounds fantastic. Thank you.” Tyler smiles at the boy, who beams back at him and opens the closet to get blankets and pillows.

He quietly extends the couch, turning it into a makeshift bed, as Rose continues to moan in pain, before they quietly die off as she falls asleep.

Tyler blinks back tears, a frown marring his handsome face, stroking his mother’s hand gently, as if she would break.

“It hurts watching them like this. I’ve been there more than I would like.” The volunteer says, looking at Tyler and Rose sadly.

“You know, not long ago my Dad was in a coma. Some weird illness hit Smallville. The paper won't talk about it, but ask the doctors and they'll spill. I was lucky that some researchers found the cure in time.”

The volunteer shakes his head, frowning, “I don’t know what we would've done if he died. I know we can’t help people like your mother now. We’re not there yet, technology wise but, maybe we can, a couple of years down the line. She won’t be in pain all of the time."

Tyler cries as he speaks, unloading all his troubles onto a teenager with kind eyes,"I wish I could do something. Help her in some way. I just sit here while she’s in pain. There’s nothing I can do."

"Only if you believe you can do nothing.” The boy says, looking out into the dark night, in contemplation, “Dreams save us. Dreams lift us up and transform us. If you want to help your mom, whose to stop you? Study medicine, learn about her disease.”

“It’ll be too late.” Tyler says, anger in his tone, shaking his head at the boy, the stupid boy who hopes too much.

“Maybe. Maybe for her, but not for the others who you could help. The choice is yours, but wouldn’t you rather help then do nothing?" This strange boy tells him, a knowing in his eyes.

Tyler feels the anger surge out of him, and when it is gone, he is left hollow enough for hope to fill him. Slowly, he smiles, a tiredness seeping into his bones.

"Anyways. I've got to go. I'm kinda breaking curfew being here." The boy grins at him sheepishly, and waves him goodbye as he walks out of the room.

As he begins to fall into sleep, unable to lift his tongue, Tyler remembers he never learned the strange boy’s name.

 

* * *

 

Clark stretches to the sun, rocking on his heels as he and Martha exit the truck, “Well, here we go. Who are we going to visit this time?” Clark asks, as his mother heads towards the back of the truck.

“Mrs. Sykes’, The Goodard Twins, and Mr. Henry.” Martha lists off, chuckling when Clark grabs the irises away from her. “Are you excited about the big fishing trip with your Dad next weekend?” She asks, as they near the building decked in flowers and other greenery.

“Yes, actually.” Clark chirps happily, “I want to catch some catfish, so we can have some nice catfish soup.” Clark’s mouth begins to water, as images of catfish soup flash through his head.

“I bet you do. Let’s hope you don’t eat the entire pot this time, alright? A little control is advised.” Martha raises an eyebrow at the gluttonous expression on Clark’s face.

“But Ma,” Clark whines like the teenager he should be, “It’s not like I’ll get a stomach ache.”

“Clark Jerome Kent, you will not eat the entire pot of catfish soup _again_. Now, how did it go at the hospital?”

“Great!” Clark beamed, opening the door for his mother, “I helped cleaning around, and I got all the volunteer credits I needed! Sorry I came home last night, I was talking to one of the patient's’ family, since they seemed really down.”

“Well, I certainly hope they didn’t begrudge your kindness.” Martha says, and steps into the shop, the doorbell ringing behind them.

“I don’t think they did, Ma. I hope where ever they are, they’re doing better now.” Clark says, staring at the shiny wood countertops.

“Martha! Pleasure to see you again so soon, thank you again for all of the fresh produce.” Hank greets her cheerfully, waving to Martha and Clark.

“It’s no problem, Hank. We’re just dropping this off, and we’ll get started on some deliveries for you, is that alright?” Martha asks, dropping off a box of produce.

“More than fine, Martha. What do you say you leave Clark here to help with some heavy lifting?” Hank asks, clapping Clark on the shoulder.

“If you really need him Hank, he’d be happy to help.” Martha asks, giving him a stare as Hank turns away to grab the box of produce.

“I’d be ecstatic, Mr. Hank. Just tell me where you need me.” Clark says, still clutching the basket of irises.

“I’ll be going then, and tell me if Clark causes any trouble, would you Hank?” She looks meaningfully to Clark, pursing her lips as he smiles widely to her, “I’d hate to find out he ate the entire salad bar.”

 

* * *

 

Lex walks into the study, scoffing as he sees Dominic playing pool.

“Your father's very disappointed with you, Lex.” Dominic says smugly, looking at him take a seat at his desk.

Dryly, Lex feels the carelessness drip off of his voice, “In the face of all aridity and disenchantment, my father’s disappointment is as perennial as the grass. Only the circumstances change, the game remains the same. What do you want, Dominic?” Lex asks, settling into his chair.

Dominic aims at a ball, “An internal audit of your division has turned up accounting irregularities. I've been authorized by the Chairman Emeritus to come down and go through it in a thorough manner.”

Lex rolls his eyes, opening a folder to read, “So, payback for turning down my father's offer to join him in Metropolis. How original.”

Dominic rises and straightens out his suit, “Lionel has been very tolerant of your excesses. But this time, you didn't spend the money on parties and sports cars, or women of ‘questionable status’. He wants to know where it went, especially since you’ve given up your _extracurriculars._ ”

Lex leans on his elbows, unbothered to get up from his seat, “My father gave me a copy of ‘The Will to Power’ for my tenth birthday. After my mother died, the voices of Sun Tzu, Machiavelli, Nietzsche we’re what raised me. I grew up, raised, and shaped by the man you work for, Dominic. Compassion, trust, _love_? Don’t make me laugh, those things weren’t for Luthors.”

Dominic scoffs, and smiles at him, like he would a child, “I'll remember that if I'm every interviewed by the biography channel. I’m sure they’d love to hear how Lionel raised you.”

Lex spins a pen with is fingers, playing coy, “All I'm saying, Dominic, is try and remember who I was raised by. I try to deny it, but deep down, I’m my father’s son. Tread carefully.”

Lex smiles at him brightly, nothing like his serious self, and Dominic leaves the room, horribly unsettled.

 

* * *

 

 

Sitting at the Talon, Clark flips through a fishing magazine, before sketching in a journal, slowly mouthing the words and narrowing his eyes.

“Looks like a real page-turner.” Lex drolls, clapping Clark gently on his shoulder, unsure if he should put his hands on him. Slowly, he takes a seat across from Clark, raising an eyebrow.

Clark smiles at him, and Lex’s chest aches knowing it isn’t the same smile as the ones before it.

“My father and I have our annual fishing trip. Once a year, we go down to the river, and catch as many catfish as we can.” Clark wistfully looks up, stomach growling at the thought of Catfish stew. “Ma makes the best Catfish stew in Smallville. I could eat a whole pot myself, have you ever tried some?”

Lex blinks at Clark’s question, “No. My father was of the mind that if you must eat it, then it has to be the best. Luthors don’t settle for anything less. My father and I went on a fishing trip once, I still hate to remember it.”

Jess butted into their conversation quietly, dropping off a plate of muffins, as Lex motioned for a cup of coffee. Nodding she jotted down his order and went to the counter. “Your Dad doesn’t seem like the fishing type,” Clark said, unpeeling a muffin from the liner, and offering it to Lex.

Shaking his head, Lex refuses the muffin, “I had a big breakfast. Anyway, he's not. We were the bait. We flew to South Australia, went down in the cage, and personally met every Deep Blue Sea critic’s greatest fear.”

Biting into the muffin, Clark nods along as Lex talks and shakes his head, “Why did you go then? It doesn’t seem like something you’d be into.”

Lex smirked at Clark, and Clark dryly swallowed the muffin, remembering that smirk kissing his skin. “Because he didn't think I would. We never went on another father-son trip after that. He’s never been one for familial sentimentality. On the other hand,” Lex said, looking down at Clark’s sketch, “You seem really interested in your fishing trip?”

“Yeah,” Clark said, easily demolishing half of a plate of muffins, “I can’t wait to see what Dad thinks of my bait ideas. We try new bait every year and then we compare with past years. There’s usually a restriction on how much catfish you can catch, but I found out-” Clark exclaimed, pulling out a printed piece of paper from his journal, showing it to Lex,“-That Asian Carps are an invasive species to Kansas Rivers. That basically means free fish!” Clark says, practically vibrating out of his seat in excitement.

Lex attempts to smother his smile, in awe of how happy Clark seems over something so simple. “I didn’t think you’d be so _into_ fishing.” Lex remarks, looking at the interest on Clark’s face.

“Why?” Clark asks, confusion settling over his features.

“I just figured teenagers usually turn their noses up at the things their parents do. I didn’t expect you to be so enthusiastic.” Lex thanked Jess for the coffee, and took a grateful sip.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Clark leans on his elbows, scribbling away in his journal, “Anything we can save on food means more bills getting paid. I know we all usually joke about my black hole of a stomach, but I do eat a lot. And I figure, hey catching a lot of fish basically means free meals. And less Ma and Dad worrying.”

“Clark,” Lex started, “You know-”

“That it’s not my job to worry about adult things? Yeah, Ma and Dad have really covered that topic. _Don’t do too many chores, Clark. Stop doing all of the animal feeding, son. I need to do some work too._ ” Clark imitates his parents, huffing loudly, “I just want to help anyway I can. What’s so hard to understand about that?”

“They have their pride, and responsibilities as not only adults, Clark, but as parents. I don’t have kids of my own, but I can imagine, if I did, I would provide for them the very best I could. I wouldn’t want them to waste away their childhood worrying about problems they shouldn’t be worrying about.” Lex sipped his coffee, eyeing Clark curiously.

“Have you guys been talking? It’s like a mixtape playing over itself.” Clark complains, in a whiny, grating voice, and Lex sighs.

“Clark-” Lex says, rubbing his temples.

“If you guys want me to act like a child, and pretend nothing is wrong, and that I can do nothing to change that, then why am I even trying to be anything else? What’s so wrong with wanting to help that no one is willing to let me do it?” Clark’s stormy eyes beg for an answer.

“It’s not that helping is bad.” Lex says firmly. “It’s that the worry you’ll wear yourself out is very real, Clark. You- you’re the type of person to give pieces of yourself until there’s nothing but a husk. I know you mean well, your parents know you mean well. But, Clark, tell me, do you know when to give in? Giving in is not in my nature, but everyone is different. Don’t push yourself to be so... _mature_ , Clark. Savor your time as a child.”

“I am Lex,” Clark says, looking at him thoughtfully, “I am savoring it like the last few sips of coffee in the mug. The way you savor a good homemade meal when you sit down and take the first bite, still covered in flour, the dirty dishes piled high. I savor it every time I take a deep breath and I look to see the sun, the corn swaying in the dusty breeze. I savor all that I have, there is peace in my veins, and peace in my heart. And for all that I am a child, I too understand that this cusp before me is precious.”

Lex sips his coffee, and looks at him queerly, “Not that I don’t love you reading, and that you’ve discovered a new lexis, Clark. But-” Lex laughs incredulously, eyebrows raised, “-What the hell was that?”

 

* * *

 

Jonathan turns slowly, turning off the torch with haste, and lifting his mask to stare at a shiny black shoes and then up, to a professionally groomed face.

“You’re lucky I’m quick with the torch, or you face wouldn’t look so nice.” Jonathan chides the man, “You don’t startle someone who works with a torch.”

Dominic smiles at him blandly, “My apologies. My name is Dominic Senatori, I work for Lionel Luthor. I'm here in Smallville following up on a research project Lex Luthor recently instigated.”

“Yeah? What’s it got to do with me?” Jonathan eyes him with distrust, at the mention of Lionel, “I don’t know about you, Sir, but this doesn’t look like a research facility to me. Now, if you don’t mind, this isn’t going to weld itself.”

Dominic shakes his head, putting a firm hand on his shoulder, “There was an incident involving your son, Lex's Porsche, and a bridge.” Dominic explained, trying to see any nervous tics in the man before him, “Lex Luthor has spent a considerable amount of time and capital researching the crash, and I was wondering if you knew why?” Dominic asked, ready to pull out a pad of paper.

“What can I say?” Jonathan asks confused, “All I know is Lex Luthor was driving like a maniac. His car went off the bridge into the water. My son jumped in, risked his life to save him. According to Luthor, it’s a miracle. According to me, he had some damn good luck my son happened to be walking back from school.”

Dominic taps his pen on the pad of paper in his hand, “So, you wouldn't know why he commissioned an in-depth profile into you and your family?”

“Beats me,” Jonathan shakes his head, sighing. “You need anything else?”

“Not at all,” Dominic smiles at him, and gives a small wave, “Thank you for your time Mr. Kent.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Clark.” Jonathan greets his son, slowly fixing a broken part of a fishing rod.

“Dad,” Clark smiles at his Dad, closing the front door as a gust of cold air ruffles his hair. Putting the fishing magazine right in front of his father and taking a seat, Clark lays on the table, “I was thinking we could try some different bait? The magazine says a blue flathead usually gets a lot of bites.”

“We could try it,” Jonathan says smiling, piecing the fishing rod together, “But I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a load of hogwash. You want to try some noodling this year?”

Clark lights up in a second, beaming at his father, “Seriously? Yes! Catfish soup here I come!” Clark cheers standing from his chair and doing a strange little happy dance, as Jonathan bursts into laughter.

“Just remember there’s a limit on the amount of Catfish, alright? If you’re really feeling some fish, son, there’s always Trout, Bass, or Bluegill.” Jonathan tries to look sternly to his son, only to fail, Clark’s glee becoming infectious.

“Maybe I could use my X-ray vision!” Clark crows, the ringing of his voice drawing Martha from upstairs. “What’s going on now, sweetheart?” She asks, headed down the stairs.

Clark beams at her, hugging her tightly, before pulling away to give her puppy dog eyes, “I’m trying to convince Dad, that he should let me use X-ray vision. I can see you already thinking it’s cheating, Dad. It’s not I’m going to pluck them out of the water with super speed, I’m just gonna make it easier for us to find them.”

“Well,” Jonathan pretends to think, frowning, “I suppose. But, we’re doing a day of normal fishing. We have to see if the new bait will work after all.”

“Yes!” Clark cheers, eagerly holding his old fishing rod, “You and me, buddy,” He wags his eyebrows at the fishing rod, Martha snickering behind her hand at his antics, “It’s going to be great. Kyle is going to be so jealous, he said he misses fishing the most. Can we take the cast iron skillet this time, and some bisquick? Mrs. Arkin gave me a recipe for a campfire cobbler and I am desperate to try it, Ma.”

Martha fixes his wind ruffled hair, and kisses him on the cheek, “We’ll go shopping in the morning, bright and early, get you some stuff so you won’t have to survive on cold canned peaches, beans, and grilled fish. Now, did you finish your homework?”

Clark laughs weakly, before slowly heading upstairs, “I’ll get right on it. I’ll be done before you can even start making a list!”

 

* * *

 

 

“Clark!” Martha yelled from the bottom of the stairs, “You’d better not be sleeping still. We said bright and early, didn’t we?”

Groaning, Clark awoke and yawned, stretching into the air and hovering for a moment.

He zoomed down the stairs, hastily dressed in a tight red turtleneck, and patched, fraying, blue jeans. Throwing over his jacket, Clark kisses his mother on the cheek, “I’m up,” He smiles cheekily, eagerly grabbing a plate with pancakes on it.

“You slept past breakfast,” Martha says, feeling his forehead, “Are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart?”

“I feel fine, just hungry. Nothing unusual.” Clark says over a mouthful of syrupy pancakes, scraping his plate clean of crumbs.

“Well, take an apple, or three. We’ve got to get on the road. There’s a lot to buy, and don’t give me that look, sweetheart. I know you’re hungry, and if you’re lucky,” Martha says with a twinkle in her eye, “Maybe we’ll stop by the diner.”

 

* * *

 

Lex enters the barn, looking up to the loft, seeing Jonathan lifting a bale of hay and throwing it to the ground below, “Jonathan,” He greeted, smiling at the older man, “You called, is there something wrong?”

“I certainly don’t want to think there is something wrong. A man came over to the farm, a Dominic Senatori, Santorini? Something like that. He said, you-” Jonathan set down the hay, and air quoted, “-Spent a considerable amount of time and capital researching the crash that happened the day you and Clark met. He even mentioned that you commissioned an in-depth profile on my family?” Jonathan huffed, catching his breath and headed down the stairs, “Now, I know you, son. Maybe not as well as I like, but enough to get a sense of who you are. What’s this about, Lex?”

Lex hesitated for a moment, meeting Jonathan Kent’s steady, questioning gaze head on. “I wanted to know what happened out on that bridge the day of the accident. I had a theory about the crash, and I’m not entirely sure I’m wrong. I’ve seen things about Clark, how he- It’s not so much of what he does say, than what he doesn’t. I know, Jonathan, that things aren’t what they seem, and I don’t care. I’m trying to piece together what I can, because I know even if Clark wants to tell me, I want to find the answers myself. I didn’t mean to bring you to my father’s attention-.”

“Hold on for a moment, what do you mean Clark wants to tell you, and that you want to find the answers yourself?” Jonathan asked, eyeing Lex curiously.

“Clark, has been rather honest with me, and normally I’d be ecstatic, but what if there’s something I can’t protect him or you, or Martha from? I told Clark to wait. It seems I always am.”

Lex shakes his head, beginning to pace, “I want to know, but not until I can do something about it, if things go wrong. My father is a shrewd man, and I don’t want him to have anything but a passing curiosity about your family, Jonathan. Clark told me it’s not only his secret to tell, and I respect that. And the other thing, the answers I’m looking for, they’re not just about Clark, they’re about everything in Smallville. Clark just happens to be a recurring point, if you will.”

Jonathan sighs, raking a hand through his hair, “First of all, thank you for being honest with me. I know Lionel would rather die than be honest. And second, what do you mean Clark’s a recurring point?”

Lex looks Jonathan in the eye, and winces, “Clark, happens to be a recurring point because of all of the strange things that go on around him. I know it’s  not something you want to hear, but it’s the truth. Smallville is strange, and myself and a partner are working on a theory as to why, how, and what the effects will be.”

“That sounds like, Clark. Is there anything else you can tell me? About Smallville being strange?” Jonathan asks, crossing his arms.

“Nothing you wouldn’t already know from living here since the meteor shower.” Lex shrugs at him, rubbing his neck, “Everything else is strictly confidential, and circumstantial until we can get something direct to prove our theories.”

“Well,” Jonathan groans, stretching out his arms, “Keep me updated if you can, son, and thank you for stopping by. Lord knows Lionel must keep you busy. Would you like to have dinner with us?”

“You know what, Jonathan, I wouldn’t mind at all.” Lex smiles, as he leaves the barn, waving to Jonathan, “I’ll be back then.”

 

* * *

 

To Kyle Tippet, the Hand Man Who Maybe Has A Plan,

Life in Smallville hasn’t been the same without you. Cryptid stories are dying out, and I’ve never missed your statues more in my life! I need an abstract shaped wood carving to name Kyle... also is it alright if I take your place as local cryptid?? I heard you can go live in the woods, scare people off and no one will care...

You’ll never believe what’s happened since you’ve been gone. There was this flower called the ‘Nicodemus,’ that made people go crazy and get angry and believe me it was all one wild ride. ~~So much stuff has happened between me and Lex, it’s kind of insane although, I kind of doubt you want to hear about my teenage woes??? I fucked up, like A LOT, but we’re getting better!~~

Anyways, big news, and I mean  big news  , Lana (you know, Lang? Nell Potter’s niece?) and Chloe Sullivan (do you know Chloe? Her dad’s the plant manager at LuthorCorp) they like each other??? I’m not going to lie, I never saw that one coming but maybe it should’ve been more obvious, I mean, I’m ONLY best friends with both of them!? I have so many jokes I want to tell you, but no one will ever understand them, I’m too niche. ~~Harold, they’re lesbians.~~

~~Actually Lana might be bi, but I haven’t talked to her about it..yet.~~

I think Chloe’s been acting a bit dodgy lately?? Real slick?? Secretive?? She’s being a slim shady is what she is. Always working on something I’m not allowed to see? I can’t lie, I’m so curious, but I know how to respect my friend’s privacy even if I’m dying inside...Want to bet on what it is? ~~Five bucks says it’s something to do with all of the Meteor Freaks. Also, she was defenestration from Lex’s window by some asshole robber, she’s completely healed up though.~~

This insane guy from Lex’s past tried to murder him, and no Kyle, I’m not joking?? Or something like that, I never got the full story cause Lex was real secretive... I’m super happy I learned how to pick a lock, Chloe truly is the gift that keeps on giving, (you know, gray legality stuff.) I had a little brother for about two days, who coincidentally didn’t really like Lex much until he left...I wonder what he saw. Lex is into comics, which, expected, you know, considering he’s like a  giant nerd  with a deep checkbook.

My used-to-be-little-brother, Ryan, ended up finding out my secret, you know the  **one** . I was chill, totally cool, absolutely boss, cause I rolled with it. Ma and Dad worried up a storm, but I told them Ryan was a good person, and he’s just my favorite now, until I find another, perhaps more adorable, smaller sibling. Why are small people so wise? Like is their third eye wide open, Kyle? The things Ryan told me, from the mouth of babes you know?

I’m friends with Whitney (Fordman, you know, the guy that tried to murder you?? Whoops..)!!! You know how I told you I was trying to reach out more?? Well, guess who has a jock friend and two thumbs? Me! He’s having a bit of a tough time with his dad being in the hospital and all, but I’m real glad we’re not enemies anymore! Finally, someone I can talk to about memes, complain about Lex, and have some guy time with ~~since Pete’s out of the picture these days.~~

The other day we went driving up around where the Loeb bridge is, I’ve never hollered so loud (and don’t tell the sheriff but we were going waaay too fast and it was glorious.) We’re going to go dirt biking sometime soon, I found this cool place around Riley Field, and I think it would cheer Whitney up. (It’s a surprise, so don’t go sending any mysterious clues to him, alright?) I’ve been saving like a mad man, and doing chores around Smallville, but it’s all in an effort to contribute to our economy! Ma and Dad won’t let me get a job just yet, (they’re babying me) so I’m keeping everything on the sly. I will rent those dirt bikes if it kills me!

Also, did you ever meet Cassandra? Cassandra Carver who lives in the Smallville Retirement Center?? For some reason, she really likes you, and she told me to send you this nice little D-I-Y booklet, so I am! I too have noticed, we have amazing taste in company, I am assuming we’ve both met you, Kyle.

Stick with me, I’m not done yet! I’m going on a camping/fishing trip with my dad! I am so  excited !! I would singlehandedly try to depopulate the fish in the river but then my Ma would be so disappointed in me. Can you blame me though??? If I didn’t have the sun, I’d eat more than a Brachiosaurus and my parents would get mad at me for eating all of the wheat fields...

How’s the food? Tell me you’ve been able to actually find something decent to eat ~~and not just diner food~~ ? Have you visited any cities or are you still keeping on the down low? Also, I need to know, did that cute girl from Central ever give you her phone number? Give me the deets, the 411, ~~and don’t pretend you can’t understand my slang, I know you can!~~

Currently depopulating the Elbow River,

Clark Kent.

P.S.  I put a bunch of stamps in here, just in case you can’t find a post office wherever you’re headed.

P.P.S  Also, there’s some bus fare, in case you happen to not have any statues to sell. Also, the booklet on how to D-I-Y a bunch of stuff!!! Hope you’re having fun on the road!

 

* * *

 

Clark knocks on a door, smiling brightly as a disheveled Whitney opens the door, breezing past him, and bounding up the stairs and into his bedroom, “Did you see that Kansas State game last week? I can’t believe Johnson fumbled.”

Whitney follows behind him, dourly lurking like a silent ghost, “What’re you doing here, Kent? Did Lana send you?”

“Jokes on you, Whitney.” Clark pretends to laugh egotistically, “I sent myself. No returns allowed. Kent policy. Lana did call, but this visit was more to check up on you. See how my favorite jock is doing.”

“You’ve know how I’m doing. Let me guess, you want to know why I haven’t been to visit my dying father?” Whitney mutters, picking up scattered clothes on the floor and throwing it into the hamper, hazaphously cleaning his room.

Clark lays on Whitney’s bed, hugging a pillow, “We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to, Whitney.”

“I-” Whitney wipes his eyes as they begin to tear up, “My father is the strongest man I ever knew. And when I see him there in the hospital so weak, struggling to live, it kills me because that's not my father.”

Whitney steals the pillow from Clark to hide his face, to hide the tears rolling down his cheeks, “Whatever you do, for a long time to come, your father is gonna be there to support you. He’ll get to see you go to college, marry, start a family. The only thing I’ll have is a memory.”

Whitney sobs into the pillow, muffling his cries, “I don't want that memory to be of that sick man laying there in the hospital. I want to remember him as he was, not as he is.”

Clark sits up, and gently coaxes Whitney into a hug, “I know it’s hard. I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through Whitney, just watching him...wither. But wouldn’t you rather spend time with him now, then regret it for the rest of your life? I know you love, admire, and respect him more than anything in this world, and isn’t it worth it to visit him when he’s at his weakest? For him to have his son there, even if he is afraid to spend his time with?”

Whitney sobs into Clark’s shoulder, the frail veneer of an unfeeling son falling away like ash in the wind. “I’m scared, Clark. I’m so scared. I don’t want him to die.”

“I know you are, Whitney, and that’s okay. Because when we’re afraid, we can choose to have the courage to face what we fear.”

“God,” Whitney complained into Clark’s shoulder, sobbing, “Stop sounding like some wise ass. Just cry with me and stay for dinner.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lex parks his porsche, careful not to hit a patch of muddy dirt, and climbs out with a bottle of wine and flowers, tulips out of season, but blooming wonderfully.

Knocking on the door, Lex smiles as Jonathan swings it open, “Lex, welcome, Martha’ll have dinner ready in a minute.”

“Jonathan, I hope you don’t mind I brought some wine?” Lex says, handing over a bottle of Cheval Blanc, the rich wine hiding in an unassuming bottle.

“Not at all,” Martha says, delivering a bountiful pan of roast chicken to the dining table. She turns, taking off her oven mitts, and kissed Lex on the cheek, as he hands her a bouquet of tulips.

“Oh, Lex,” Martha says, stroking the flowers gently, “They’re beautiful. And not in season. They’ll look gorgeous on the table, let me get a vase.”

Lex smiles as Martha hurries to get a vase, and Jonathan laughs and claps him on the shoulder.

“Sit down, son, Clark should be back any minute. How’s work going?”

“Good.” Lex starts, taking a seat at the dining table. “Luthorcorp stock is up this quarter, so it’ll give my father nothing to complain about. Clark and I have been getting along better, and I’m having dinner here. There’s not a lot that can ruin the good week I’ve been having, Jonathan, Martha.”

Martha smiles at him, bringing in the vase, and setting it on a counter, “That’s fantastic. You’ve been doing such a good job at the plant, even the employee’s are noticing.” Martha looks out of the window, to the dark night and frowns.

“Strange, Clark isn’t back, yet. Jonathan, did he say if he was going somewhere?” Martha asks, grabbing a plate of roasted vegetables.

“No, I haven’t seen him since this morning. When you both came back from the store. He said he was going to go visit a friend, but he didn’t say who.” Jonathan stroked his chin, looking at the clock turning six pm.

Breaking the silence, the landline rings insistently, and Martha hurries to pick it up.

“Clark, sweetheart, dinner is-” Martha pauses, and nods her head, “You’re staying over for dinner? Your father invited Lex, and we’re having roast chicken.”

“Are you sure? What? You promised, you’d stay for dinner? Alright, it seems like we’ll have to miss you, but come back before curfew. Yes, and tell Mrs. Fordman I said Hi.” Martha hangs up the phone, and smiles heading back to the table, beginning to carve the chicken.

“He’s having dinner elsewhere, then?” Lex asks, lifting his plate as Martha moves to serve him.

“Yeah, it’s a bit random, but it does happen. Heavens, I didn’t know he and Whitney were friends.” Martha says, carving a generous slice of chicken and putting it onto Lex’s plate.

“Whitney Fordman?” Jonathan asks, as surprised as Lex feels. “Last I knew, he and Whitney didn’t get along very well. And I’m saying that, that time with Kyle Tippet, if I hadn’t been there they would’ve come to blows.”

“Clark knows better than to get into an argument that could end in a physical altercation.” Martha chides, serving Lex a side of mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables.

Jonathan shakes his head, and takes a bite of chicken, “Usually he does, but when he’s around Whitney it’s different. I’d never seen him get so worked up so quickly.”

“Well, I can definitely say we’re both rather confused. From what I’ve heard Clark say about him, it doesn’t seem like they would get along. I was rather of the mind that they weren’t friends in the slightest.” Lex says, delicately cutting into the succulent chicken, trembling slightly with anger.

“Well, they’re having dinner together, so end of story.” Martha murmurs, “Now, how’s dinner, Lex? Did I do a good job?”  

“It is heavenly, Martha, like it always is.” Lex smiles at her, laying the complements on thick to see her smile grow wider as he compliments her cooking.

“So,” Lex smiles, turning his head to look at the fishing pole resting on the wall, “Clark seems very excited about the fishing trip you two are having?” He asks Jonathan, looking curiously at him.

“Yeah,” Jonathan nods, eating a forkful of carrots, “I haven’t seen him this excited about it for a while, to be honest. We’ve been talking about bait for the past few days, and he even went out and got a fishing magazine. I’m so proud.” Jonathan crows, his crows feet deepening as he smiles.

Martha laughs, equally excited about the trip, “Are you sure he’s not just excited to finally have some catfish soup? I swear, every fifth word that comes out of his mouth is about how he’s going to eat all that fish. I’ll have to keep an extra close eye on it this year, or Clark’ll eat us out of house and home.”

“It sounds like him,” Lex agrees, “Has Clark been eating less these days, Martha? He mentioned to me that he was worried about the bills. And well, he didn’t seem too happy. If there’s anything I can do, Jonathan, Martha-.”

“Now, don’t you start giving us handouts, Lex Luthor.” Martha chides, shoving more chicken onto his plate, “We may be farmers but we have our pride. And well, Clark is a worrier, we all know that. We’re still getting everything paid on time. And he’s been eating the same, if anything, more than usual.”

Jonathan nods his head as Martha speaks, “I’ll have another talk with him on the fishing trip, don’t you worry about a thing, Lex.” Jonathan smiles brightly at the younger man, and Lex happily digs into the rest of his meal.

“What are you going to do with your weekend, Martha? Won’t it get a bit lonely without Jonathan and Clark?” Lex asks, leaning in to hear what she would say.

Martha took a bite of her mashed potatoes, and slowly pursed her lips, “I’m going to enjoy some peace and quiet, and try to find a nice christmas present for Clark. He’s been reading up a storm lately, and I’m going to go through his books and see what he likes more. Or maybe I’ll get him some tapes? Usually that’s what kids like, right?” She asks, looking to Lex.

Lex shrugs, quirking his mouth upwards, “I wouldn’t know how to answer that, but I’m pretty sure kids like money. Or in Clark’s case, nothing too expensive or he’ll force you to return it.”

“It’s a Kent thing,” Martha says, dryly looking to Jonathan, “I can’t even buy him a nice shirt, without him crying over the price.”

“We could all use nice shirts, Jonathan. A new one every year won’t kill you, will it?” Lex teases, lighting up as Jonathan fakes outrage.

“Now, now, enough teasing. Anyone want a glass of wine?” Jonathan asks, derailing the conversation, and together they all cheer, “But just one for you, Lex. We wouldn’t want you getting into an accident on the way there, you hear?”

“Of course,” Lex nods perfunctory, enjoying the delicate roast on the skin. “I’d hate to go over a bridge and not have Clark there to save me.” He jokes, and joins them in laughter, wishing for Clark’s presence like Ruth at Naomi’s side.

 

* * *

 

“You’re still here?” Lex asks, walking into his study and throwing his jacket onto the couch, “Didn’t even take a dinner break, did you?”

Dominic smiles at him, sitting at the computer and jotting things down on a notepad, “Look here,” He asks, pointing to a number on the screen, “There's a discrepancy between the purchasing and shipping records.” Dominic nods his head, at the joyless look in Lex’s eyes, and continues scribbling along.

“Stop.” Lex moans in disgust, and moves to the cabinet to pour them a drink, “I know my father authorized this investigation, and you’re determined to see it though, but that’s enough for today.”

Walking over he offers Dominic a glass, “A 30 year old, single-malt, also bought with my father's money. Make sure you jot that down, wouldn’t want to give my father something to complain about would you?” Lex smirks, sitting and stands in front of his desk.

“Let's be real with each other, Dominic. My father sent you here to spy on me because he's afraid of how well I'm doing. I wouldn’t even be surprised if you happened to bring in a little bit of bugs with you on this trip.”

Pacing the floor, Lex waves his whiskey around, “Is he tired of giving me chances, thinking I’m going to fail, Dominic, or are you so unimportant he didn’t even think to tell you that? I suppose, whatever you tell him, he’ll have to ...revise, his opinion of me.” Lex raises an eyebrow at him, and slowly takes a sip of the Whiskey.

“I'm not just his screw-up son anymore, who parties until dawn, and spends Daddy’s money on women. Now I'm competition. And my father only knows one way of dealing with competition. Just like those emperors he always admired.” Lex stares Dominic down, watching as the man grows more and more disgruntled.

“There are some things better left between patient and therapist, Lex. Although, I don’t imagine you could pay a therapist enough to listen to you, _even_ with all of Daddy’s money.” Dominic shoots back, savoring the taste of Whiskey on his tongue.

Lex doesn’t bother to hide his smug grin, setting his glass into the desk heavily, “Lesson one, my father should have taught you. In ancient Persia, kings would kill a messenger who brought them news they didn't like. A sword through your chest is a tad bit extreme, and rather messy. So, I settled for something more subtle. I know you probably think you’re my father’s protege or something, but you really had no chance against me, Dominic. A Luthor is a Luthor, no matter how defanged you think I am.” Lex snickers at the expression on Dominic’s face, his glass shattering as it hits the ground, and he loses consciousness.

 

* * *

 

“Dad.” Whitney whispers, clutching his weathered hand, the beeping of the machines playing to his frantic thoughts..

“Whitney. You came.” George Fordman laid on his hospital bed, slowly and harshly sucking in another breath.

“Yeah, a friend of mine made sure I stopped being such a wuss. Well,” Whitney strokes his father’s hand, “More like he told me it was okay to be a wuss, as long as I had the courage to face my fears.”

“Good,” George says, “That’s good. How’s the store?”

“Everything is going alright, don’t worry about the store. I’ve been doing inventory, and everything in between. Mom is hanging in there, she’s scared, but you know she’s tougher than a bag of bricks.” Whitney leans into kiss his father’s clammy forehead, trembling as he hears his father’s breath rattle.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” Whitney told his father, unwilling to look him in the eye, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get that scholarship. I know how much you wanted-.”

“Whitney,” George breathes out heavily, “I won’t deny I’ve been hard on you, son. But, I pushed you because you wanted to make it happen, it was your dream. And I wanted to do everything in my power to help you accomplish it.”

“I failed, Dad. You won’t get to see me play with the Metropolis Sharks, to see me graduate from school, I don’t want lose you.” Whitney whispered, his voice echoing into the quiet room.

“Now, listen here, no matter what, Whitney, you'll always do me proud. No matter if it’s playing sports, or just running the store.” George grumbles, hacking up a lung, “Even if I die, you're my son. You’re a Fordman. And a Fordman always perseveres."

“I don’t want you to die,” Whitney repeats, clutching his father’s hand for dear life, “Mom and I need you. We love you. You were getting better.” He sobs, tears falling onto the hand that used to raise him on top of his father’s shoulders.

“I know that son, and I know you’re terrified too. Just like I was when my father died. You’ll be sad, lost, but I want you to find a purpose, son, and no matter what you choose, chase it with conviction." George strokes Whitney’s hair, on the precipice of death, showing a gentleness Whitney had long forgotten.

 

* * *

 

Lex leans on his Porsche, rapidly texting on his phone, and quirks an eyebrow as his father’s car pulls up. He quickly closes his phone, waiting for his father to exit.

Lionel drives up and gets out of his car, carefully eyeing the alleyway, and the windows above,“An interesting choice of location for a meeting, Lex. Why didn't you just come up to the penthouse?”

“Like you would’ve been there. Besides, I was making a garbage delivery. I didn't want to tarnish the marble, you like so much.” Lex jests, enjoying the impatience on his father’s face.

Coat fluttering in the wind, Lionel scowls, “I'm not in the mood to joust, Lex. Especially not in such a grotesque place.”

“Fine. Are you going to explain Dominic's visit?” Lex mirrors his father, crossing his arms, and watches as his father deliberately changes his stance.

Lionel sighs, a hand on his hips, “My auditors discovered a number of unaccounted expenditures coming out of the Smallville plant. I thought it prudent to investigate. I didn’t get where I was without making sure that people knew what happened if they misappropriated LuthorCorp funds, Lex.”

“Yes, I know, you built your empire from ashes and glitter glue. I respect that,” Lex lies, “Come on, Dad. I’ve squandered more in a weekend at Hong Kong, being a ‘dithering, drunken, sorry excuse of a son’. You didn't sic your adding machine on me then.” Lex grumbled quoting his father.

“We're talking about corporate finances, Luthorcorp funds, not the pocket money I should’ve stopped giving you once you turned fifteen.” Lionel chides, the disdain in his voice growing with every word.

Lex hides the incredulity he feels, smothering it with lighthearted tone that would surely grate on his father, “It bothers you, doesn't it? That I'm not dependent on your words anymore, that I’ve stopped caring,” Lex circles his father, feeling every bit the lion hunting his prey, “That I've made friends in Smallville, people I can trust, who don’t like me just because of my Luthor name.”

Lionel smiles at him widely, baring his teeth, pretending to be genial, “Don't be ridiculous, Lex. I'm happy you're doing well.” He lies, the corner of his eyes crinkling into an expression of happiness.

“No, you're not.” Lex mutters, frowning at his father, “You're afraid I won't need you anymore.”

Lionel’s laughter rings out into the alleyway, like plastic tarp blowing in the wind, “You'll always be my son, you’ll always carry my name, have my blood surging through your veins...and you will _always_ need me, Lex.” Lionel turns to leave, the tension between them palpable.

“Aren't you going to ask about Dominic? He hasn't checked in for hours, which is unusual for a person who is _so_ predictable. I guess he’s easier to control that way, isn’t he?” Lex tosses his father the keys, looking at his father with an aloofness that impressed then man, “Pop the trunk, Dad.”

“Lex.” Lionel’s voice chidingly wavers, hurrying as much as he ever does, to open the trunk, “What has he done? Hmm?” The trunk opens and Dominic squirms under Lionel’s gaze. Lex walks over and rips the take off, smirking devilishly as the tied up man.

“When you want to ask an _accounting_ question, Dad, call me. The next time one of your drones bother the Kents, and interfere with my work in Smallville, they'll be lucky to catch a ride home in the back of the trunk. Assuming I can even put up with them banging on the car for that long.” Locking eyes with his father, Lex walks off, eager to stop seeing Dominic’s ugly mug.

“Lex.” Lionel calls, and like a fool, Lex turns around, ready to hear a lecture.

“Well done.” Lionel looks at him for a second, a flash of fatherly pride in his eyes, before it disappears, and Lionel looks down to stare at Dominic.   

Lex walks away, shaking his head, the sticky, uncomfortable feeling of pride sitting in his stomach at his father’s words.

 

* * *

 

Clark screamed with joy, splashing in the water, a catfish desperately trying to escape from his iron grip.

“Dad! Dad!” Clark waved a hand, screaming at the top of his lungs, “I did it! I finally got one!”

Sitting on a small boat, Jonathan laughed, looking at his water logged son, casting his fishing rod into the still blue waters.

“Now go catch another two,” Jonathan joked, laying back to enjoy the warm sun and cool breeze, the boat swaying with the rippling water.

Diving deep into the lake, Clark smiled, a school of fish surrounding him, and then scattering when he tried to poke one. Stumbling on the sandy floor, Clark pauses for a moment before he shoots out of the river, “Dad, can I have a net? I just found a bunch of fish.”

“That depends,” Jonathan strokes his chin, “Are you sure you won’t entirely depopulate the amount of fish in the river?”

“Yes! I promise,” Clark begs, making grabby hands, awaiting the moment his father passes him a net, “You know Dad, next time we should invite Lex!” Clark smirks impishly.

Jonathan shakes his head, handing him a net, “I don’t think he’s the fishing sort, son.”

“Yeah, he’ll hate it. It’ll be great!” He beams, diving under the water with the focus of a torpedo.

Jonathan laughs to himself, stuck with the image of a miserable Lex Luthor in a boat, swatting mosquitoes with his chipper son, desperately learning how to fish.

Suddenly, Jonathan leans over the edge of the boat, abandoning his fishing pole, “Make sure you don’t catch too much son. We have to make it believable that we caught everything in a day!” Jonathan hollers at the water, the rushing of the river being his only answer.

Sighing, he sits back down heavily, surprised when something begins to bite, “Alright, let's get a big fish. Something good for dinner tonight. Lord above help me, we’ll be needing it tonight.”

Swiftly, Jonathan begins to reel in his fish, surprised at how it fights him, beginning to stand and plant his feet firmly to the ground. Muscles tensing, Jonathan heaves with all his might, and nearly falls overboard when he sees Clark hanging onto a very livid carp.

Laughing, Clark wags his eyebrows, regretful to let the fish go, “You caught me!” He jokes, and Jonathan wheezes out laughter like it’s his last day on earth.

“Son, why in the hell are you chasing this poor old carp?” He asks, heart thundering in his chest, and lungs desperate for air.

“I saw my chance, and I took it! Besides, it was giving me a look. Now you can say you really got a winner out on the river!” Clark giggles at his own joke, letting go of the fish, watching it fight to get out of his father’s hook. “I’ll bring up the net in a little bit, promise, I’m just going to go check out this cool cave I found.”

Jonathan shakes his head fondly, looking to the sun hiding behind trees, “Just remember, be out before twilight, we’ve got to start the fire and pitch some tents.”

“Already pitched the tents, I’ll be up before you can start cleaning the fish!” Clark salutes him, careening back into the water with inhuman grace, and Jonathan begins to peddle back towards the shore, happy with his catch for the day.

Docking the boat alongside the pier, Jonathan stumbled off, heaving a heavy box of iced fish onto his shoulder, and a pail of water in the other, “I am a poor wayfaring stranger ***** ,” He sings, voice heavy with timbre, “While travelling through this world full of woe.”

He whistles a solemn tone, walking a traveled path to the campsite, and sets the fish down atop a table, with the water, and grabbed his knives, ready to clean up his fish.

“Dad, I got the fish.” Clark said, dripping wet with a netful of carp, “You need any help with cleaning the fish?” He asks, gently sorting the fish into the icer.

“Nope,” Jonathan says cheerfully, “Just get yourself cleaned up, start the veg and some beans would you?”

Enjoying the brisk breeze, Clark hops to attention, running into his tent and coming out dressed in seconds. Grabbing the cast iron skillet, Clark quickly starts the fire, hitting the tinder against his skin and setting alight the kinder.

“Beans and Veg coming right up, can chef Clark also interest you in some peach cobbler made from Ma’s best canned peaches?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Jonathan said, grabbing a pail of water to wash the fish off. “Dinner is going to be fantastic.” He cheers, and together he and Clark share a smile, night beginning to take hold.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _*_ The song Jonathan sings is  Wayfaring Stranger by Johnny Cash, cause you know, the song is a grassroots song and I feel like Jonathan would know it. Although, I myself prefer  Emmylou Harris' version.
> 
> Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter!


	15. Worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You said you wanted to talk?” Chloe asked.  
> “Yeah,” Lana says, nodding her head, lowering the sun visor, “I asked Clark why you were being distant."
> 
> “Pete?” Chloe squints at him, hiding her surprise, “What’s up?”  
> Pete gritted his teeth, "“C’mon, Chloe. You owe me one."
> 
> “What the hell is this, Clark?” Lex asked to a silent room, the chill of the wind, causing his skin to goosebump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, a timely update, hurrah! This chapter was a dream and things are slowly shaping up. ~~so that when it's the season finale you won't know what hit you.~~  
>  This chapter includes yet another change to canon, Clark is such a _busy_ bee...and so is Chloe...
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys the new chapter, and like it enough to comment <3

“A little thought and kindness;

These actions and meanings;

They make life worth living.”

 

* * *

 

“You said you wanted to talk?” Chloe asked, sipping on a latte, squinting into the early morning sun, and sitting in her parked car out in Chandler’s Field.

“Yeah,” Lana says, nodding her head, lowering the sun visor, “I asked Clark why you were being distant. And he said,-”

Chloe stops sipping her latte, and bites her lip, “What did he say?”

Lana smiles at Chloe, eyebrows furrowing, “He said to ask you. So, will you actually tell me why you’ve been avoiding me? I know we’re friends, but it’s not the _same_ anymore, Chloe. And I think I _deserve_ to know why you’re pushing me away.”

Lana blinks away her tears, yet faces Chloe head on, “Was it something I said? Did I do something to make you uncomfortab-”

Chloe slams her latte down into the cup holder, and shakes her head violently, “No. You didn’t make me uncomfortable, but Lana, if you really want to know.” Chloe swallows thickly, “If you really want to know, it’ll change everything between us, Lana, and I don’t know if we’ll be able to go back to what we were. I don’t want to lose your friendship, Lana.” Chloe says, squeezing Lana’s hand uncomfortably tight.

“I still want to know,” Lana says, voice unwavering, “So please, tell me.”

Chloe sighs, and pulls away her hand, “Do you remember the Nicodemus?” She asks, tapping the steering wheel.

“Yes,” Lana nods her head, “Crazy flower with a pollen that made people release their inner selves, and made them more aggressive or something like that. At least, that’s what the doctors told me. What about it?” Lana asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“You were one of the people hit by the Nicodemus, Lana. And well, everyone tended to act really different under the flower, not like their usual selves. And something happened between us, and I don’t know how to say this without panicking.” Chloe said, voice wavering and looking at the windshield wipers.

“Quick, like a bandaid?” Lana offers nervously, scared to touch Chloe.

“Youkissedme.” Chloe says in one long breath, eyes wide, and looking to and fro.

“I-what?” Lana gapes, the breath stolen from her lungs. “I kissed you?”

“I know it meant nothing. I just- I haven’t been  able to get it out of my head. I’m sorry, Lana, I’m so sorry. You weren’t yourself and it isn’t right of me to-” Chloe blabbers hysterically, a pleading look in her eyes.

“Shut up.” Lana whispers, a trickle of memories dripping into her mind, “Shut up!” She yells, looking as surprised as Chloe, who was beginning to hiccup from her tears.

With the advantage of surprise, Lana reaches for Chloe, smashing their mouths together, passionately pulling her close.

“Don’t be an idiot. It didn’t mean nothing. It meant _everything_.” Lana plastered several kissed to Chloe’s mouth, smiling when Chloe eagerly returned them, and they mussed each other’s hair, fingers entangled together.

Breathless, they separated from their kissing, Lana smiling besotted, leaning on Chloe’s shoulder, “I think I love you.”

Chloe choking on her spit was her only answer, the bright morning sun beginning to rise higher.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Chloe!” A voice yells, as she and Lana pull into Smallville High’s parking lot.

“I’ll meet you by the door, I’ll take care of this quick, alright?” Chloe stokes Lana’s face, as they smile and go their separate directions.

Chloe turns off her car, and quickly exits, head spinning for the voice calling her name. Casually, Pete strolls into view, smiling brightly at her.

“Pete?” She squints at him, hiding her surprise, “What’s up?” She asks, shifting her purse.

“Well, guess who decided to run in the electoral race?” He bragged loudly, turning interested heads, “And I’ve decided since we’re friends, you’d endorse me in the Torch, right?” He grins at her, barely looking short of smug.

“What?” Chloe guffawed, looking at him disbelievingly. “I only endorse candidates I can stand behind, Pete. People with firm policies, open agendas, and a desire to really help the student body.” She tried to explain, condensing her reasons for endorsing any student candidate.

Quickly, he stopped smiling, and gritting his teeth, “C’mon, Chloe. You _owe_ me one. I went to check out that insane flower that landed me in the hospital with you, didn’t I? Do me a solid, Chlo’.”

Chloe raises her eyebrows at him, “So that’s how you’re going to start your candidacy? Coercion? Owed debts?” She crosses her arms stubbornly.

“Hey, I don’t have all of the support the others do, alright? I just decided to sign up. My campaign needs support, and since you owe me...” Pete gripes, raising his hands in peace, as she glares at him.

“And what have you tried to actually garner support, Pete? What are you ideals? What is your platform, your agenda? You-”

“C’mon, Chloe, like any of that actually matters. Everyone _knows_ that popularity is what really counts. All I have to do is organize a couple meet and greets, and with your support, I’ll be Student Body President, and guess what? More funding for the Torch!” Pete nudges her shoulder, doing a rep of showy jazz hands.

Chloe scoffs at him, shaking her head, “I won’t be bribed into supporting an ineffectual student body government, especially since it’d be a demerit to my high school experience. It looks like you have more in common with the Luthor’s than you think, Pete. After all, wasn’t bribing the name of the game?” Chloe spits, mentally apologizing to Lex in her thoughts.

Pete snarls in anger at her, and then shrugs off her words, “Well, don’t say I didn’t try for an old friend’s sake. Looks like you’re too wrapped up in Clark for you to even care about your other friends.” Pete shakes his head, and walks off in a huff, hands jammed into his pockets, leaving Chloe to race towards Lana, shaking her head of sad thoughts.

 

* * *

 

Clark shakes his head, and blinks several times when he sees Chloe and Lana joined at the hip, looking at them suspiciously over the newest addition of the Smallville Ledger.

Giggling like hyenas, they approach Clark, beaming at him with pink cheeks and shiny eyes.

“Morning, Clark.” Chloe says, shaking a latte, smiling so wide, it hurts Clark’s face.

“Good morning, what’re you reading?” Lana asks, curiously reading the title of the newspaper, stuck to Chloe like glue.

“A student council elect has been in an accident. He was stung very badly by a swarm of bees in his own bathroom. Ouch.” Clark winces, and pulls both of them in for a hug, “Not that I’ve ever been stung by a bee.” He flexes on them, shrugging nonchalantly.

Chloe rolls her eyes, as Lana laughs into his shoulder, “You’re such a dork.” She says, and Clark notices both of their eyes seem rather puffy.

He stops hugging them and pulls away, concerned, “Are you guys okay?” He asks, motioning to their eyes, “Did something happen?” He says, pulling them towards an empty part of the hallway.

Lana and Chloe share looks, and Chloe beams at him, and slowly holds hands with Lana, raising them so Clark can see, Lana blushing red.

Clark lights up like a kid on Christmas, “Oh my god! Oh my god! When did this happen? How long? Have you guys been hiding this for me? I told you Chloe!” He ends smugly, and both of the girls pretend to angrily smack his shoulder.

“Shush, Iron Man.” Chloe says, poking his arm to prove a point, “We’re on the down low, Clark.”

“Whoops,” Clark says, covering his mouth, “Sorry.” He whispers, happy to see a cheerful expression on Lana.

“It hasn’t even been a couple hours, and I could write a sonnet.” Lana says, looking at Chloe like a poet would their muse.

“C-Calm down, Shakespeare, not here, alright?” Chloe says, grabbing onto Clark’s arm and dragging them to the Torch’s office. Barging in, Chloe kicks the door closed behind them, and lets go of their arms, swiftly turning around to plant Lana and Clark into chairs.

“Shall I compare thee to-” Lana begins, fluttering her eyes at Chloe, Clark beginning to die of laughter.

“You can write the sonnet later, Lana.” Chloe begs, before ripping the newspaper from Clark’s hands, “Now, how did this happen to Paul? How did a swarm of bees get into his bathroom?” She asked, flipping through pages of newspaper.

Lana huffs, but scooches her chair closer to read alongside Chloe.

“I don’t know,” Clark shrugs, “The Center for Environmental Protection is sending out a team from Metropolis to investigate. It seems everyone is pretty nervous about a swarm of bees able to get into their homes.” He leans back on his chair, and watches as Chloe stands from her chair, heads to her computer, and starts to click frantically.

“And there she goes,” Lana shakes her head fondly, “I’ve lost her to the world of investigative journalism. May her curious soul rest in peace.”

“Bless her soul,” Clark says, “Years later and we can still hear her voice, tempting us to join on her last eternal quest for answers.”

Snickering, they both fall into laughter at the disgruntled look on Chloe’s face. “I’m not dead!” She says, furiously clicking through articles, “Now let me work in peace! I can’t believe no one is saying anything about this! Paul is such a good candidate, and I am not going to let his platform visibility just wither away because of a swarm of bees!”

Lana sighs, rolls her eyes, and stands to Chloe’s side, “Come on, you heard her. Let’s get Paul some visibility, I doubt she’ll care about anything else.” Lana beams, clearly enamored with Chloe’s work ethic.

 

* * *

 

Lex speeds down the road, on his way to the Kents' when a flash of red catches his attention. Almost passing by, a short skirt that looks like Dolce & Gabbana catches his eye more. Quickly, he pulls over and begins to dial a tow truck, appreciatively watching her fuss with her car.

“You look like you could use some help.” He says, walking up to her while his phone dials.

“No,” She says without looking at him, “I'm fine.”

“Hans,” He greets, “I need you out on Route 90, two miles east of the mansion. A red Mustang with engine trouble. Sorry to bother you this morning.” He smiles when Hans assured him it’s no bother, and that he’ll be on his way momentarily.

“What are you doing?” The woman says, pulling away a wrench, frowning at him.

“Calling my mechanic.” Lex smirks, “You look like you could use the help.”

She rolls her eyes at him, “Not that I don't appreciate your attempt at postmodern chivalry, but I said I was fine. I’d called a tow if I thought I needed one.”

“Dolce & Gabbana, a vocabulary, and some bite? You've got Metropolis written all over you. What brings you to Smallville, has the cesspool of chauvinistic men tired you?” Lex snarks, looking her outfit up and down, noticing a tiny seam on her skirt beginning to unravel.

“What are you the sheriff come to run me out of town? I didn’t know I needed an excuse to breathe, thank you very much.” She huffs, turning back to him and ignoring her car entirely.

Lex raises an eyebrow, “Did the attitude come with the Dolce & Gabbana, or is it Louis Vuitton?”

She crosses her arms, “If you’re so insistent on policing me, I’ll give you my reason. I'm thinking about moving here.” She doesn’t bother to smile at him, before checking him out, “I'd ask you what it's like, but you don't look like a local, how about your attitude? Is it vintage?”

“Funny. And no, this is Versace.” Lex says, showcasing his jacket by spinning in a circle. “I've lived here since last fall. When I came, ungratefully and sulking, I couldn't wait to get out, but it’s grown on me.” Lex says, fondness creeping into his voice, thinking back on the Kents’ that made it all worth it.

The woman leans on her car, “Why the change?” She asks in a deceptively light tone, “Did the Norman Rockwell ambiance seduce you? I’ll admit, a change of pace might be what I need.”

Leaning in Lex whispers, watching as she stiffens,“Appearance is deceptive. Nothing around here is what it seems.” He says, thinking about all the strange glowing rocks, and stranger still, the residents.

“I'm intrigued. What do you mean?” She mutters, crossing her arms.

“All these questions.” Lex complains, “This is beginning to sound like an interview.” He slips around her, reaches into her car, and grabs her keys, yanking them from their place, “Who do you work for?” He asks, turning a sharp gaze on her.

She freezes a second too long, looking at him with confusion, “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“If I toss these into the woods,” He says, tossing them up and down, “You really are gonna need a tow truck.” Lex watches as she scoffs, the silence between them growing. Shrugging, he aims his arm, and pulls back, steadying himself as she grasps his arm fiercely.

“Carrie Castle.” She yells out quickly, “I'm a staff reporter for the Metropolis Journal.” She sighs when he gives her back her keys, throwing them harshly.

“I don't grant interviews, Miss Castle, especially with such an underhanded tactic. I've spent the better part of my life taking back entrances to avoid people like you.” Lex turns away, walking towards his Porsche.

“Wait!” Carrie calls, “Just listen. I want to write an article about you.” She runs to block his path, brown hair fluttering in the breeze.

“Is that all the pitch you have?” Lex asks with disinterest. “Don’t bother. There are articles written about me all the time, and none of them important.”

“But you're either dismissed as a wild child playboy or the spoiled son of Lionel Luthor. You've gotten some good press in the Inquisitor. The Journal is not a tabloid. It's well-respected. It could really help change your image.” She needles him, and Lex pauses to consider her words.

Lex looks at her thoughtfully, “What did you have in mind, Carrie Castle?”

“A cover profile of you and your work in Smallville. People would like to know what Lionel Luthor’s son is doing, and with all your work here, you could really stand a chance of getting out of your father’s shadow.” She tries not to sound like she’s begging, but his searching gaze makes the hair on her neck stand.

Lex opens the door to his Porsche, “Launching my career and conveniently your own. I admire the effort, Miss Castle, but I have to decline. You get points for creativity, though.” He smiles blandly at her, before jumping into his car, revving the engine, and driving off, leaving her in the dust.

 

* * *

 

Clark grabs his backpack, almost ripping at the seams, and heads up to the loft, smiling when he sees Whitney spread out on the floor with his school books.

“Sorry,” Clark apologizes, “I don’t exactly have much room here. Are you sure you don’t want to head inside?” He asks, throwing his backpack next to a precarious stack of books.

“I’m fine,” Whitney says, flipping through pages, “Besides, I don’t want to bother your folks with my troubles. It’s better if they don’t hear me cussing about not being able to understand all the metaphors, and symbolism in whatever poems we’re analyzing this semester.”

Clark laughs, and settles next to Whitney on the ground, “Well, make yourself at home. Do you want to start working on the essay now, so we can have something done before school tomorrow?”

“That’d be great, you know, if I could understand what any of these poets were talking about. Would it kill them to speak plainly? I love poetry as much as the next jock, and I guess it shows, huh?” Whitney asks, already close to banging his book shut.

“You’ll get it, Whitney. Maybe you could become a plain speaking poet, yeah?” Clark teases him, flipping through the notes Whitney had hastily scrawled during class.

“I’d be the savior of all jock kind,” Whitney snorted, shaking his head trying to concentrate on his work.

Lex pulls up the the Kent Farm, parking his Porsche off to the side, and bounds up the stairs, “Martha,” Lex greets, opening the screen door and giving her an awkward hug, “How are you doing? How was that peaceful weekend for you?”

Martha kisses him on the cheek, and gently pats his face, “I’m doing just fine, Lex. Just getting started on some pies. The weekend was fantastic, I just got my chores done and decided to laze around more than Betty-Mae.”

“Betty-Mae?” Lex asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“You remember the herd? Thanks to you, we're slowly replacing the herd. The new cow we got, we named her Betty-Mae, in honor of our fallen Bessie-Mae. May her trouble making soul pass on to evergreen pastures, and not haunt us with another kicking cow.” Martha laughed fondly, remembering the trouble making cow.

Lex feels the laughter bubbling up his throat, and for once, he lets it free, the blood rushing to his cheeks and neck, the sound of his voice bouncing off of the walls.

“You need anything, or did you come for a slice of pie?” Martha asks, smiling as he laughs his heart out.

“I came to see Clark, he never did tell me about how the fishing trip went. I figured we could go out for coffee.” Lex said, looking around the living area.

“He’s up in the loft, doing who knows what with a friend. Remind him that he should be working on his homework, would you? I swear he only knows how to do homework the day it’s due.” Martha said, pretending to be stern.

“I will,” Lex smiled at her, “We’ll be off then.” Walking towards the loft, Lex climbed the stairs, stopping when he saw Clark and Whitney Fordman huddled over schoolwork on the floor.

"Clark," Lex said, looking blandly at Whitney sitting cross legged and looking at a paper with frustration. Standing abruptly, Clark blinks, confused, "Lex, what're you doing here?"

"What I can't visit anymore? My poor heart..." Lex teases briefly, before freezing up and remembering Whitney.

"No, it's just I didn't expect you to drop by. Ma said you were busy, with some quarterly stuff of something. I didn't want to disturb you with a call." Clark rubs his neck, and Lex pretends to smile.

"I was thinking we could go down to the Talon, get some coffee, catch up? You never did tell me about your fishing trip despite being so excited about it." Lex offers, on guard, and tense.

Clark shoots a look at Whitney, and Lex can see the uncertainty in his gaze, "Don't worry about it, Clark." Whitney says, gathering his books and the scattered pieces of paper,  "I can come back later. I'll be minding the store for most of the day, and if you can drop by when I'm on break, it'd be great."

Whitney smiles casually at Lex, backpack slung over his shoulder, schoolwork hastily thrown in, "Nice to see you, Mr. Luthor. Clark speaks highly of you."

Lex smiles with his teeth, sharpness in his gaze, "Does he now?"

Whitney looks at the exasperation on Clark’s face and smiles, “Yeah. You’re his best friend, ‘who isn’t a rich dick, Whitney’.” He says, air quoting in Clark’s direction. “I figure he thinks the sun shines out of your ass, too.” Whitney shrugs, snickering at the momentarily dumbfounded look on Lex’s face.

“Thanks for the help, Clark. I’ll see you later!” Whitney calls out, bounding down the stairs, and out of the loft.

"So, a jock. I never figured that was your type." Lex remarks, hearing an engine start up and fade away, masking how insecure he felt.

"What?" Clark blinks, "I don't like Whitney." He backtracks, shaking his head, collecting scattered books.

"Are you sure?" Lex practically spits, the ugly, familiar feeling of not being good enough rearing its’ head. "Because you seem awfully forgiving to a guy who hung you up as Scarecrow because you wouldn't stop talking to his girl."

"Dear R-god, Lex, please don't tell me you're serious? I don't like Whitney, not like that, and even if I did, for what reason would you care, or mind?" Clark shakes his head again, furiously this time.

"We're friends now, we both have grown and settled our differences, Lex. I don't want to feel held down by the past, and neither does Whitney. C'mon," Clark says, effectively ending the argument by grabbing his jacket from the chair, "You still want to go to the Talon, right? You chased my study date away, so you’re paying." Clark teases, and is pleased to see a small smile make its way back onto Lex's face.

"Sure," Lex agrees, completely dropping the subject and headed down the stairs, Clark following appreciatively behind him.

“You’re also getting me a plate of muffins,” Clark grouses, and all Lex can do is sigh, and feed the gluttonous boy who holds his heart, jealousy turning his stomach.

 

* * *

 

Clark flies into the Talon, and smiles at Lana, “Can I get six chocolate muffins, two black coffees, one pour over please, and a cheese danish.” He says greedily eyeing the muffins he’d not been allowed to touch at home.

Looking around at the empty tables, and quiet ambiance, Clark sighs, “Wow, the place is really a haunt, huh?”

Lana smacks him with a dish towel, and grumbles as she makes coffee, “Yeah, haunted by my inability to fill seats. The Beanery has been trying to put us out of business ever since we opened. I’ve tried everything, Clark.” Lana says, hands trembling as she slowly poured water over a coffee cup. “At this rate, we're gonna have to close the doors in a month.”

“Have you talked to Lex? He might be able to help? I’m pretty sure investors can do that, right?” Clark asked, leaning on the bar.

“He's been uncharacteristically silent.” Lana shrugs, sighing deeply, “Besides, this is my battle. I am determined to win, show him and everyone else that they can really count on me. I’m really hoping this doesn’t go up in flames.” She says, biting her lip. “How do you want your coffee?” She asks, pouring water slower than rainfall.

“Oh,” Clark smiles, motioning towards the door, “It’s not for me, Lex came with. He just stepped out to take a call. Why else do you think I’d order so many muffins?” He wags his eyebrows, looking longingly to the filled plate.

Lana’s snickers loudly, as she stops pouring over water, and starts to fill Clark’s mug, “I don’t know how you do it, Clark. You gorge yourself on muffins and somehow never show it.” She says, nearly dropping the coffee mug when Clark decides to flex, and she bursts out laughing.

Stepping promptly into the Talon, Lex notes the empty tables, and makes his way towards Clark and Lana, pausing to admire the view of Clark’s muscles bulging as he flexed.

“Am I stronger than Gaston, or what, Lana?” Clark says, shifting his position to showcase his muscles.

“Pfft.” Lana trembles with laughter, gasping for air, momentarily freezing when she sees Lex approach behind Clark.

“Doubtful if we’ll ever find out, Clark. After all you haven’t eaten five dozen eggs.” Lex jokes, and gratefully grabs the mug of coffee and takes a sip.

“Are you going to want to sit at the bar?” Lex asks, cradling his coffee gently, watching a slight fray in Clark’s shirt.

Clark grabs the plate of muffins with the danish, and his mug of coffee, “To the cool chairs we go! Can I sit in the real comfy one this time?” Clark begs, eager to sip coffee in an unlumpy chair.

“That depends, Clark, can you defeat me in rock, paper, scissors?” Lex asks, raising a hand to battle.

Setting down the plate of muffins and his coffee, Clark readies himself, “On three. One. Two. Three.” Clark flattens his hand to paper, and scowls when Lex smugly shows his scissors.

“I’ll get it someday,” Clark grumbles, sitting across from Lex on a lumpy couch, ready to munch away on his muffins, “How was your call?” Clark asks, curious as to what business would pull Lex away so completely.

“Fine,” Lex said, cutting into the cheese danish, “My partner assures me they have finally collected enough data to start some plausible correlation, and try to start on a possible causation.”

“Right,” Clark said, swallowing down his muffin, “That sounds really vague, but good job, I guess.”

“Thank you,” Lex smiles, “Now, how was your fishing trip? Jonathan wouldn’t stop crowing about it, your mother enjoyed her peace, but what about you?”

Clark pauses on his demolishment of muffins, eyes sparkling with life, “Lex you’ll never believe all the fish we caught. _Ever_.” He says for emphasis, leaning over the table, closer to Lex,  “We got all the Catfish we could! You should’ve seen how big they were. And by the way, just in case Ma hasn’t mentioned anything, you’re invited to Catfish soup night. Ma’s gonna stuff you with so much fish stew, you’ll have to roll off into the sunset instead of getting into your car.”

Almost spewing coffee from his mouth, Lex has enough mind to swallow before he laughs silently into his hand. “I’ll look forward to it then, especially with all the moaning and groaning I’ve heard about it.”

“And that isn’t the most of it! You should’ve seen the net of fish I managed to get!-” Clark explodes with enthusiasm, hands waving wildly as he recounted the tale of his weekend fishing trip.

 

* * *

 

Chloe walks the hallway to Lex’s office, and knocks on the wood, a voice telling her to enter.

“Lex,” Chloe greets, holding a thick sheaf of papers.

“Chloe, how has work been?” Lex asks, closing the manila folder he’d been working through.

“As good as can be, I guess, trying not to rip my hair out with fact or fiction. Here’s all of the relevant data I’ve been able to find.” She says, passing him the bundle of papers. “We certainly have a lot more than anticipated but because the sources are all so scattered-”

“It’d be hard to tell what really started everything, yes?” Lex asks, and Chloe is reminded of the intellect he chooses to hide away, pretending to be a flighty millionaire's son.

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to connect the Meta-humans, to the meteor rocks, like you said, and if I’m honest, it’s kind of scary the way everything fits. I still don’t have anything positive on the reason why everything is barely happening now though. Maybe a person reaches a limit of some sort, and then they start showing powers? Becoming aggressive? Becoming Meta-human?” Chloe mutters, and pulls out a worn notepad, scribbling her questions down, time and time again.

“For now, I want you to focus more on the Meta-humans, since that requires you to move from place to place. If I start asking questions about Smallville residents and their pasts, they’ll be suspicious.” Lex says, clasping his hands together.

“But if I do it, they’ll just think I’m a zany reporter and humor me, right? Sly, real sly.” Chloe says, scribbling quicker. “There’s a list of confirmed, or at least, as confirmed as I can get, Meta-humans in there. Some overview on their abilities, temperaments, and possible origin of their powers.”

“Good. Thank you for all your hard work, are you managing to keep up with your schoolwork?” Lex asks, genuinely curious.

“Don’t even worry about it, my multitasking game is so on point. This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.” Chloe says, smiling brightly. “One thing though,” Chloe says, quickly becoming somber, "Lex, I think we're dealing with something way out of our league. Yes, Smallville's population isn't on Metropolis' scale, but if we’re right the number of affected people would largely outnumber us.” She clicks her pen, nervously, continuing on with Lex’s undivided attention, “I mean the data I've been able to find indicates that mostly people my age have been affected, with outliers being people like Cassandra Carver's age, and maybe even Coach Walt. In most cases, these people seem to turn aggressive once they discover their powers or, come into contact with something that aggravates them, or they just explode, or something! I just can't find it, and I’ve tried to wrap my head around it a million different ways."

"We'll keep looking, Chloe.” Lex reassures her, “You find the answers that are within your power, and I'll do my part." Lex says, voice surprisingly steady.

“There’s something else, too.” Chloe says, her leg bouncing up and down.

“Something else that isn’t in the report?” Lex questions, and Chloe shakes her head, “No, it’s in there alright. But I thought it’d be better if you heard if from me, just in case you had any questions.”

“Go on,” Lex says, his gaze burning a hole into her head.

“I met this guy, an Eddie Cole, who was crop dusting the day of the meteor shower. This is going to sound crazy, but he said he ‘not only saw a spaceship crash, avoiding his plane by a good ten feet’, but that it ‘swerved before it hit the ground’ and when he went by later to see what it was, it was long gone. I know,” Chloe says, at the look on Lex’s face, “It sounds a bit too crazy, even for me, but hey, aliens could be a probable cause, right? Those meteors came from somewhere, and this is the best lead we have.”

“Did he say where this supposed spaceship crashed?” Lex asked, leaning back into his chair.

“Miller’s field, he even gave me a map,” Chloe says, digging into her purse, and showing Lex a worn and faded map.

“Thank you,” Lex says, taking the map into his hands, and idly looking over it, studying every line.

Chloe smiles, and quietly leaves, knowing he'll go to the field, and dig till bedrock to get answers, a million questions bubbling in her head.

 

* * *

 

Clark bustles into the Torch, notices Chloe clicking away on her computer, and before he can debate whether or not to scare her, he’s already beside her.

"Why are you doing research on a field? Miller's field," Clark questions, reading over her shoulder, and terrifying Chloe in one fell swoop.

Quickly, Chloe clicks out, and passes Clark a folder filled with useless things, blocking his view of the computer, "An environmental study. Lex asked me if I could dig into it's past, you know since the meteor strike, and see if there was anything wrong with the land. It's some sort of land acquisition mumbo-jumbo I couldn't understand." Chloe lies through her teeth, sighing with relief when Clark seems engrossed in the folder instead of her story.

"Right," Clark says, pretending to be distracted, while his mind races a million miles ahead, to the key sitting in a desecrated book. He needed to get to work, he had crumbs to lay.

“I thought you’d be working on the bee story, you seemed pretty revved earlier. I don’t think I’d ever seen Lana so smitten.” Clark hums, pretending to still be engrossed with useless articles.

Chloe rearranges papers on her desk, looking at him with her peripherals, “I did. I found out that the swarms didn't migrate from any of the usual places. And that beekeepers from all over the state have found their hives empty. It's like the colonies just up and left.” Chloe says, changing the subject from her ‘environmental study.’

“Strange.” Clark comments, closing the folder, and pursing his lips, “Bees are notorious followers. They wouldn't desert their hive without a good reason.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow at Clark, “Are you guys doing beekeeping now, too?” She asks, incredulous.

“Blame my mom. She got us both addicted to the Discovery Channel.” Clark shrugs, “Anyways, I think I have to go. I need to catch up with Whitney because Lex interrupted our study date.”

“Then what did you drop by for?” Chloe asks, crossing her arms.

“I was just checking in, and grabbing some old Torch articles for references.” He says, waving around old printed paper, “You wouldn’t believe how many times Lana has been called on in class today, and all she could say was ‘huh?’ I’ve got to look out for the two of you if you’re going to get lost in the honeymoon phase.” Clark pouts, and kisses her forehead, “I’ve got to get going. Remind Lana that she has detention with Mrs. Taylor, would you?” Clark smiles at Chloe and backs out of the Torch, leaving quickly down the hall.

 

* * *

 

Curious people rally around Pete, as he hands out badges, stickers, and the occasional shirt. “Hey, be sure to vote for me, alright?” He yells to the jocks, throwing them a shirt, “Then we’ll see what we can do about getting rid of extra community hours.”

Sasha marches up angrily, looking at him with distaste, “Aren’t you just being a shining example of the politics in our country right now.”

“Hey,” Pete held his hands up, and shrugged, “Don’t blame me if I know what the student body wants. They don’t care about paper reforms, they want more free time and less community service.”

“Suave,” Sasha grumbles, sneering at him, “Promising them something you can’t change. You truly are a paragon of American values.”

“Don’t hate me, just because I’m the competition. I figure the student council president electees could use some shaking up. It’s time to actually give the students what they want!” Pete yells into the hallway, hyping up the crowd.

“Pete! Pete! Pete! Give the students what they want!” The crowd chanted, and slowly Sasha was pushed out of the ring of students.

“It’s not about what the students want, it’s about balance and hierarchy!” Sasha yelled, as numerous students pelted her with red ‘Vote For Pete,’ shirts.

 

* * *

 

Clark flies to Fordmans,’ smiling when he sees Whitney studying on his break.

He enters the store, the bell causing Whitney to raise his head and smile back. “Clark, I didn’t think you’d show.” Whitney says, leaning on his books.

“Yeah, sorry about earlier. I swear I didn’t know Lex was going to drop by like that. How’s the essay going?” Clark asks, shoving Whitney aside and throwing his backpack onto the counter.

“It’s going.” Whitney sighs, “He didn’t look too happy to see you hanging out with me,” Whitney comments, chin in hand.

“Lex is like that,” Clark laughs nervously, opening his binder to look an assignment.

“So he’s an only child rich kid who doesn’t like it when other people are around you?” Whitney snarks, “I’ll be honest with you. He’s a bit of a dick, and I don’t think he’s good people.”

“Okay, one how much is of that is you speaking, and not Smallville rumor mill? And second, you know he was the one that found me tied up like a scarecrow. It’s going to take him a while to not balk at the thought of us hanging out together.” Clark explains, and then amends, “Even if he can be a little bit of an unintended dick.”

“I apologized very adult like about that. And as long as unintended dick stops trying to murder me with his eyes, and interrupting our study sessions, I couldn’t give a shit.” Whitney says, flipping through a binder to show, Clark a poem, “Now, I’ve analyzed and interpreted _A Dream Within A Dream_ , but she also wants us to ‘really show our thoughts.’ Can make up some symbolism so that she’ll get off my back? Any help, Shakespeare?”

“Well, have you already written down your own interpretations? Because I won’t say a word if you’re just gonna jot down what I’m gonna say.” Whitney rolls his eyes at Clark, and a passes him a journal with numerous bullets points on it.

“Whitney, why do you even need my help? You literally have everything to finish your essay right here. Analysis, quotes, interpretations, possible annotations, _wow,_ Mrs. Taylor really is pulling out all the stops for this essay, huh?”

Whitney rubs his face, the bags under his eyes more prominent, “Don’t remind me. It’s worth a quarter of our grade, ‘because we’ve been preparing for it for the whole semester.’ I’ll write the essay and you proofread?” He offers, looking to see Clark working on his own essay.

“Deal.” Clark mutters, wishing he could super speed through his homework. “How long do you have until you have to work again?”

“An hour, maybe a bit more depending on if anyone walks in. Which might not happen. These aren’t popular store hours.” Whitney answers, condensing his bullet points into a readable essay.

“Good, cause we’re both going to need all the help we can get. Mrs. Taylor was onto me about that one essay and Kafka. I pretty much wrote four pages of bull, I am so happy she didn’t call my mom.”

“Not enough evidence, but you’d better watch your back. She’s a hawk.” Whitney says, furiously trying to connect his writing, “And pass me that highlighter would you? I keep forgetting to tie in some allusions.”

 

* * *

 

Chloe briskly walks into the Talon, smiling brightly at grouchy Lana, “What’s wrong? I know I haven’t done anything. Or is it because I haven’t done anything?” Chloe blabbs nervously, shifting her purse.

“It’s not you,” Lana gripes, hiding her face in her hands, “The owner of the Beanery stopped by earlier. He said that he was making it his mission to run this place into the ground, and then had the nerve to tell me that it wasn't personal, just business.” Lana sulks, and leans heavily onto the counter.

“Wow, I’d never thought I’d see the day someone besides me quoted the Godfather at you. Was it intimidating?” Chloe asked, reaching across to rub Lana’s shoulder.

“More annoying than intimidating. Annoying that he’s barely doing anything and we’re still losing income. I honestly don’t know what to do, I’ve tried just about every trick in the book and nothing changes, Chloe. At this point, Lex is probably expecting me to back my bags and close shop!” Lana rants, squeezing Chloe’s hand.

“You’ll get through this, Lana. Who was the person that actually convinced Lex Luthor of all people to not just turn this into a parking garage? You’ve already defeated the real boss, the other guy is just a lower level minion.” Chloe consoles her, quickly kissing her on the cheek.

Lana immediately brightens up, smiling brighter than the sun, “Alright, but I demand just compensation. A hundred thousand kisses.” She teases, pulling Chloe closer to her.

“I guess I really need to stick around, don’t I?” Chloe flutters her eyes at Lana, jumping when her phone rings. “Oh,” She says, “I’ve got to go. One of my sources has some info. See you later alright?” Chloe pecks Lana goodbye, running out of the Talon as Lex enters.

Smiling nervously, Lana waits as Lex approaches, “I’m glad to see business is booming.” He snarks, raising an eyebrow at the barren tables.

“I’m sorry,” Lana apologizes to him sincerely, “I sound like a broken record, but I’ve tried everything, price cuts, coupons, deals, advertisements. No one is coming.”

“Well, it’s certainly a problem. So, what are you going to do if you’ve already tried everything? As an investor, I have to know when to cut my losses, Lana. You’ve worked admirably to turn this goal of yours into a reality. Are you ready to give up?” Lex asks, masking his expression, and looking her in the eye.

“No,” Lana shakes her head, “I don’t want to give up, not when I’ve come so far. What would you suggest?” Lana asks timidly, knitting her eyebrows.

“The Beanery has declared war. And in war, there is only one victor. If you want to hold onto this place, you need to get creative, be willing to get your hands dirty. I'm not suggesting anything illegal, but I think it’s time for you to think outside of your normal confines.” Lex speaks, watching Lana stand straighter, and firmly nod her head.

Leaving the Talon, and briskly walking down the sidewalk, Lex looked forward to whatever Lana would do to keep the Talon open and running.

 

* * *

 

Lex hums in appreciation as hands massage his back, because Luthors don’t moan when in the company of strangers, even as someone as genial as Gaby.

“Gaby,” He purrs, voice thick with relaxation, “You've been the best part of my day.”

Carrie smirks, feeling the soft skin under her hands, “Thank you, Mr. Luthor.”

Lex looks up, exasperated, rising to his elbows, “You're not Gaby.”

“She couldn't make it.” Carrie Castle smiles at him, a stripe of skin showing provocatively.   

Lex sighs, looking to her auburn locks, and showy earrings, “It would be best if you left, Miss Castle.”

“Do people always do what you say?” Carrie looks him up and down, rubbing more oil onto her hands.

“It’s not that unusual, Miss Castle. When you’re born into certain families, it’s normal.” Lex says, already missing his relaxation time, and Gaby.

“I thought you said you appreciated persistence.” She begins to massage his neck, and Lex lays back down, “By the way you were humming I thought I was doing a good job.”

“Lucky for you, you were. I almost couldn’t tell the difference.” He snarks back at her, glad to not have to look at her eyesore of an outfit.

“It took me a while to realize that your temptation isn’t to be seen, but to be acknowledged. You don’t want another paparazzi photoshoot, you want the newspapers from here to D.C to have ‘Son outshines his Father’ on the headline. How am I doing?” Carrie brags, kneading his neck firmly.

“A little lower, actually, and you’d be perfect. I can hazard a guess that your editor promised you your own column if could land a substantial interview with me, no?” Lex laid in silence as Carrie continued to work on the kinks in his back.

“You can imagine how appreciative I'd be, if we just talked for a moment or two,” She purrs into his ear, her oil slick hands, running down his back.

“I think I can,” Lex muses, laying his head peacefully to the side, and closing his eyes.

“Tell me, Lex, would you say my chances are above average or below?” She asks, pursing her lips at his relaxed state.

“Like you said, Miss Castle, I appreciate persistence, and your brand in particular.” Lex turns his head to look as she reaches to grab her recorder.

“You won't regret this.” Carrie gloats, and goes to turn her recorder on.

Lex looks her in the eyes, and smugly rumbles out, “Not yet, Miss Castle. I paid for an hour. After all, you did chase off my masseuse.”

Carrie stops smiling, and instead frowns when Lex lies back down, and she digs an elbow into his back, working out her frustration.

 

* * *

 

Lana and Whitney walk into the cafeteria, pausing at seeing the cafeteria so divided in political affiliations. Watching Clark devour his cardboard pizza, they walk over to the unintended neutrality zone, and sit beside him. “What’s up?” Whitney greets Clark casually, slapping his shoulder, “Who are you going to vote for?” He asks, watching Clark suck down his juice box.

Clark finished swallowing, smiling at Whitney and Lana, “Paul Chen,” Clark and Lana speak at the same time.

“Nice to know we all like his platform,” Whitney agrees, poking suspiciously at the pizza on his plate.

“Well, I haven’t really read much about it,” Clark shrugs, “But Chloe thinks he’s a good contender, so why not?”

Lana rolls her eyes at Clark’s casual dismissal, “Liar. Don’t try to act suave, I saw you flipping through old articles of the Torch. Can you believe Pete is running too?”

“Lana,” Clark whines, “I’m trying to have a legitimate excuse to procrastinate my homework. My parents won’t buy it if I don’t know anything. I doubt Pete actually has anything planned out, besides handing out buttons and stickers.”

Lana almost chokes on her juice, “Your parents would never buy it! And you do know that people root for underdogs, right?”

“You’d be surprised.” Clark says dryly, “I can’t wait to tell them the reason I can’t do schoolwork is because I’m too wrapped up in the student electees. Pete needs a platform, and visibility, there’s no way he’s going to get that now of all times. Everyone has practically decided who to vote for, he’d just be jumping for the leftovers.”

“Wow, nice to know you’re pragmatic, Clark. ” Whitney guffaws, “I didn’t think you were that into Paul Chan, that you’d sneer in the face of the opposition. You’re really a groupie aren’t you, Clark?”

Lana immediately snorts juice from out of her nose and groans in pain, knocking her head on the table. Clark chokes on his last slice of pizza, paling at an alarming rate. The rest of the cafeteria continues on, giving them strange looks but do nothing.

“What?! No! Oh my god, why would you say that? Ass-” Clark chokes, spitting out his pizza into a crumpled napkin, as Lana attempts to sit up and dab her shirt dry with hers.

“Whitney, I thought you said you’d be nice.” Lana mutters, looking at her blouse with pain.

“I am being nice. Don’t you see how happy Clark looks?” Whitney smiles brightly, and the frown on Clark’s face turns into a full blown sulk.

“Did you guys hear about what happened to Felice earlier?” Clark diverts the subject, watching as Lana and Whitney wince.

“Yeah, I heard from one of the girls on the squad that she’s in the I.C.U. She was stung way worse than Paul. She's in a coma.” Lana says in a dispirited voice.

Whitney idly chews on his cardboard pizza, and forces it down with juice, “Paul Chan and Felice Chandler, two candidates attacked in a week, I wonder what’ll happen to Pete. Anyone else getting a freaky vibe? I mean, it can’t just be a coincidence, right?” Whitney asks, sharing a conspiring glance with the both of them.

“I think we've moved past coincidence.” Clark notes, shoving the paltry amount of salad into his mouth.

“What do you guys think is going on?” Lana asks, rubbing her shoulders to get rid of her sudden chill.

Clark chews thoughtfully, speaking but taking care to cover his mouth, “I don't know, but remember last year, Sasha's accident when she was stung by a whole hive of bees? Do you think she could be controlling them somehow?”

Lana shudders at the thought, and Whitney blanches with terror, “I don’t know, but I guess it’s a good thing none of us have any political aspirations, yeah?”

The bell rings, and they stand, Lana dumping her untouched lunch, Whitney and Clark not far behind her.

 

* * *

 

Clark shuts his locker, gripping his backpack tight when he spots Sasha and approaches her.

“Sasha,” He yells into a loud hallway, managing to tap her shoulder. Wildly, she turns around, looking at him suspiciously, “What?”

“I was wondering if I could have a word?” He asks, politely, eyeing her twitchy demeanor.

“Of course,” She agrees, head swiveling back and forth as they left the crowded hallway for one much more vacant.

“What did you need?” She asks, looking him up and down.

“I was wondering if you were okay. I know everything has been going crazy lately with all the bee attacks on the electees, and I wanted to check in?” He ends on a question, pretending to voice concern.  

Sasha smiles at him, looking at him appreciatively, “You’re the first person who’s asked me that. Thank you. I would appreciate your vote even more, Clark. And I wouldn’t worry, I don’t think the bees would sting someone who has a worthy aptitude.” She smiles at him, a hint of arrogance seeping in through her tone.

“Worthy aptitude, huh? I mean, don’t you think it’s a bit weird, that they’ve all been stung?” Clark pretends to fish, watching her eyes narrow.

“Sometimes things just happen for a reason.” Sasha shrugs away his question, “I guess Felice and Paul simply didn’t care about the election as much as me, and I can just _tell_ that Pete isn’t up for it..”

“Oh, well, I just would’ve thought that you know, since we live in a democracy I thought it would’ve been funner for you if you won fairly against your competition, is all.” Clark comments, acting like a bamboozled student.

“Look, Clark. Do I feel sad about their unexpected accidents? Not in particular-” She shakes her head, cutting her sentence off, “I _need_ this. My parents are riding me to win, it’s all they’ve ever wanted. They think if I don't win, I won't get into a good college. I can’t disappoint them, Clark, they’d kill me. Thank you for your...concern, but I have a vote to win.” Sasha flounces away from him, out of the hallway and down another, and Clark knows he has to put an end to her game.

 

* * *

 

Clark runs to Sasha's garage, gently coaxing the lock open, and stepping inside of the drab room. Looking around, Clark looks for anything that would set a reliable fire, when a hand touches his shoulder and he turns around, tense and ready for a confrontation.

Clark stops abruptly, pausing at the site of Chloe looking at the garage. “Chloe.” He breathes out with relief, “What are you doing here?” He asks, looking at her curiously.

Chloe walks to a pin board with schedules and pictures of the candidates, and turns to blind him with a flashlight, “I could ask you the same thing,” She says, raising her eyebrows at him.

“I may have found a connection between Sasha and the attacks that have been going on, what about you?” Clark asks, looking at the decrepit garage.

“Same,” Chloe says, taking pictures of the board with her camera.

Clark steps right below the hive, and feels honey drip onto his jacket, slowly, he feels his jacket, and rubs the honey in between his fingers, “I think this is honey.” He says, and quickly Chloe turns around and shines her light up into the rafters, freezing at the sight of giant hives.

“Don't tell me Sasha did all this.” Clark eyes the hives, taking in their terrifying grandeur.  

“No,” Chloe says, walking away and shuffling papers around, “Her worker bees did.” Taking several pictures in a row, Chloe looks curiously to books piled high, all including bees in some form or another.

“What are you doing, Chloe?” Clark asks, watching as she all but ransacks the place and takes photos like they’re going out of style.

“Evidence,” She says succinctly, “For the Wall of Weird, if it ever stops giving me the hives. I think she's emitting something called the queen mandibular pheromone. In her accident, she was stung over a thousand times. And at the time, she was allergic.” Chloe mutters, shoving her camera back into her bag.

“Then how did she recover, if she should’ve been on the brink of death?” Clark asks, watching the wheels in Chloe’s head turn.

“That’s what I wondered, but when I dug deeper, I noticed the accident happened in Schuster’s Gorge, the deepest crater from the meteor strike.” Chloe shudders as she speaks, “The bees did something to her to make her their queen bee. And now she’s using it to her advantage. We’ve got to find her, Clark. Bees are only loyal to a certain point, they won’t listen if they don’t have a queen worth listening to. If she loses the election, in that auditorium, her scent will change, and it’ll be hell.”

“Right,” Clark agrees, looking to the hives, “Then we’d better get going.”

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees, then shoves a pile of journals into her bag as Clark turns away to head towards the door, her phone beginning to ring, “We don’t want to be here when she gets back. Are you going to need a ride back?” She asks before she picks up her phone, “Hello?”

“Don’t need it,” Clark shrugs, disappearing past the door, running with the wind.

As Chloe mutters rapidly into her phone, stepping out of the dingy garage, she looks around, and sighs when she fails to see Clark anywhere.

 

* * *

 

Carrie flounces into the Talon with a wide smile on her face, sitting across from Lex, seated on a couch.

“I thought you wanted to meet somewhere private.” She commented, looking in disdain at the gaudy walls.  

Lex raised his hand to show off the empty tables, “As if this isn’t private enough?” He jokes, watching Jess disappear into the back.

“Thanks for agreeing to see me. I just want to get a few more quotes.” She throws her hair back, and crosses her arms, digging into her purse for her recorder.

“Mm.” Lex takes a sip of his coffee, and then puts the mug on the table, “How is the article going?” He asks, with faux interest, ready to strike.

“I think people are going to see you in a whole new light. Pull you away from the image of the spoiled Luthor son, and really give you the acknowledgement you crave.”

Lex smiles at her, a kind smile that turns deadly, “Yes, I bet they will. But you see, I've had a chance to read the rough draft. And it's hardly the flattering exposé you promised. Cat got your tongue, Carrie?”

“It’s fair and accurate. Where did you get it?” Carrie spits, looking at him with contempt.

“I have my sources, Miss Castle. You twisted everything I said, I don’t like that.” Lex purses his lips, staring down the intrepid reporter.

“My journalism professor often said, ‘If you want to bring down Goliath, you better know his Achilles' heel.’ Yours is your ego.” She smiles at him, smug in her standing.

“I see East Tennessee Community College isn’t one for good metaphors.” Lex grumbles at her, smirking face.

“Do you honestly think a background check is supposed to terrify me? I know what I’m getting into, Mr. Luthor. I have nothing to hide.” She crosses her arms, and leans back into the chair.

Lex’s eyes narrow, taking note of the auburn of her hair, the fullness of her lips, and knows she’s his father’s type, “How much did my father pay you?”

“You really are paranoid.” Carrie coos at him, “To think I was right on the money.”

“Why else would you sandbag me?” He asks, to the point of snarling at her.

“If you want to make it in journalism, people have to know they can trust my opinion. I want people to know I’m a hard-hitting journalist, you’re nothing but a visible target. Metropolis’ beloved party son, wasting Daddy’s hard earned money.”

Lex clasps his hands together, placing them in his lap, “What is it going to take to make this article go away?”

Carrie scoffs at him, “Unlike that whore at the Inquisitor, I'm not for sale.” She winks at him, and begins to flounce away.

“If I were you, Miss Castle, I’d be careful. After all, the Luthors have a certain reputation to keep.” He yells after her, watching her freeze before walking away in a hurry.

Sighing, Jess timidly approaches him, “Is everything alright, Sir?” She asks, holding a tray to her chest.

“Yes, don’t even worry.” Lex waves her concern away, “Another coffee, please.”

“Right away,” She smiles at him, nods, and turns to go get him another cup of life.

 

* * *

 

Sasha approaches him in his loft, her pupils blown wide like a bee’s,"You took my journals. Give them back, give them to me!" Sasha screams at him, a swarm of bees, converging on Clark.

"What?" Clark asked, jumping away from her, "Why would I do that?"

"I don't know! I don't know!" Sasha repeated, yelling higher and higher, "You're the only one who could know about me. About my bees!"

She lets out a scream that is dwarfed by the buzz of all her bees, arms raised in a command to attack Clark. They flutter around him, and he grabs the bookcase, books falling to the floor in a heap, swinging at Sasha, desperate to feel a chill in his lungs as the bees grow closer.

The huddle around him, raring to sting, and Clark shudders when he feels their scratching limbs on him, gasping with relief when they cannot pierce his skin.

Sasha screams in frustration, tearing her hair out, “They may not be able to hurt you,” She snarls at him, more beast than bee, “But what about your parents?” She glowers at him cruelly.

Not willing to take a chance, Clark runs to his mother, and then his father, picking them up and locking the storm cellar, “I’ll explain later, Ma, Dad. Just don’t leave the cellar, alright?” He yells, throwing them the keys, the world blurring around him as he barges into Sasha’s garage.

“How'd you get here? What about your parents?” Sasha questioned, looking at him incredulously.

“They’re fine, it’s time to stop this madness, Sasha.” Clark raised his hands as a sign of peace.

“No,” She shook her head, body trembling. “It's not. I still have a speech to make. And just remember, if you try and stop me, I'll be in front of an auditorium full of people and you know what I can do to them.”

“You have to stop this.” He screamed at her, “No election is worth hurting people, innocent people, Sasha!”

"You don't know my parents, Kent. They would never accept a daughter who's second best." Sasha yelled at him, tears cascading from her eyes.

"You could've been bright, Sasha. With all the work you've done. All the passion you have. You could've had it all. If all they care about is a daughter who is first, then they don't deserve you, Sasha. They don't deserve your accomplishments, your passion, your _love_. You could always be so much more than just a worker, but you need patience, a little bit of something goes a long way. And I want to believe in you, Sasha, will you prove me wrong?" He tried to convinced her, eyeing the swarm that buzzed viciously coming in from the window.

Sasha stood still, taking in his words as the hive swarmed towards her, "No." She said, falling to the floor, landing heavily on her knees, "I won't. I just wanted them to be proud of me. For once in my life, I just wanted them to be proud." Sasha hugged herself, sagging when Clark slowly wrapped his arms around her.

"I want to be normal," She said, whispering blankly to the concrete.

"I think," Clark said, looking to the bees, and feeling a faint heat behind his eyes, "I think I can help with that."

Sasha sobs, and curls into a ball, wrapped in his arms, and Clark unleashes the heat in his eyes, aiming for the propane tank, the garage exploding around them. Gently, he covers Sasha’s face with his jacket, as she cries hysterically, and he runs to the hospital.

 

* * *

 

“Are you going to head in?” Chloe asks, rocking on her heels, and staring at Pete watching the door to the Talon close.

“What do you care? It could’ve been me in there if you’d endorsed me.” Pete grumbled, standing without a jacket in the chilly night air.

“Just because I didn’t endorse you doesn’t mean I don’t care, Pete. Am I glad you ran? Sure, but you needed way more thought put into your candidacy than meet-and-greets, buttons, and stickers. I know you wanted to win...but bribery, coercion, and peer pressure is no way to start a anything...” Chloe trailed off, gently adjusting her outfit to hang perfectly.

“Yeah, I really wanted to win. But, I guess if I had I’d be in way over my head, huh?’ Pete muttered, shaking his head, “I’d better get going.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to step in for a bit? No one would judge, Pete.” Chloe asked, hopefully pointing inside.

“Nah,” Pete said, taking a deep breath, “I know they wouldn’t, but I would. A guy’s gotta keep his pride, alright?”

“Alright,” Chloe agreed, watching him walk away from the dazzling lights of the Talon.

 

* * *

 

Lana looks around the Talon, smug to see it filled to the brim, “I can't believe Felice and Sasha both dropped out. It’s been one crazy week, huh? I guess, it’s a good thing Pete lost too.”

Chloe snickers, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, and snapping a picture, “One for the picture books. And yeah, a position of power should go to those that truly desire to make changes for the common good of the people, to people who actually want to listen. Pete wouldn’t’ve been that, for all that he wanted to win.” Chloe hums, her camera shutter clicking faster, as she looks around the packed room.

“Do you think he’ll drop by? Please tell me that's not for the Torch? I don’t want to be on the cover!” Lana swatted away Chloe’s camera, fixing her hair.

Chloe rolled her eyes, “No. Something tells me he’s taking it rather hard. And let’s face it, Pete would’ve resigned a month in. This is for Paul. Since he couldn't attend his own victory party himself, he asked me to take pictures for him. And I intend to take so many pictures he forgets he wasn’t here himself.”

“Well,” Lana said, spinning Chloe in a different direction, “Go take pictures of the catering. Maybe he’ll be able to have a taste through pictorial osmosis. I have work to do, and I can’t have you distracting me!”

Chloe laughs, gleefully spinning with the dancing crowd, disappearing towards the tables packed with food.

Lex steps into the Talon, proud to see it brimming with people and cheer, he goes to Lana, watching her order the wait staff like a seasoned professional.

“Nice crowd,” Lex compliments her, “How did using some creativity work for you?”

“Fantastically. I think we'll be having more nights like this.” Lana nods, sure of herself, basking in the pride of having filled the Talon past it’s brim.

“Oh? How can you be so sure?” He asks, “The public’s loyalty can be fickle after all.”

“You’ll have to check out page 3 of the Ledger tomorrow, the Smallville rumor mill will do the rest for me.” Lana smiles at him brightly, remembering to serve some coffee.

“Can I have a preview?” Lex asks, leaning on the counter, curious at the bright look in her eyes.

Lana leans closer to Lex, whispering into his ear, “Apparently, our rival coffeehouse has had several health department violations they've been trying to cover up.  And nothing ever stays secret long in Smallville, especially when there’s a reporter nearby.”

“Chloe?” Lex asks, turning to look at Chloe taking multiple pictures of the decorated Talon and enjoying the catering.

“Amanda, a reporter friend of Chloe’s. I admit, it was a close call, but I’ll be sure to step it up.” Lana promised, grabbing the tray of coffee.

“If I’m impressed so far, I wonder what I’ll be with you going above and beyond.” Lex smiles, slightly warmed at the bashful look on Lana’s face.

“I’ve got to get going, people are waiting for their coffee after all.” Lana waves goodbye, almost disappearing into the throng of overlycaffinated teenagers, before Lex stops her.

Pausing to look over the guests, Lex lets out a small hum, “Have you seen, Clark?” He asked, wondering where he was.

“No,” Lana shakes her head, “I think Chloe said he was too busy? Something like that. Then again, I can’t say Clark was too interested in the student elections, so he might’ve forgotten about the party today.”

“Right,” Lex lets her go, and watches her walk away, twirling his keys in hand.

 

* * *

 

“I want to try to be at peace with myself like you said,” Sasha speaks, ducking her head and blushing when Clark looks at her, the hospital machine beeping a quiet staccato.

“ _Good._ I’m sorry I can’t help you get rid of your powers, I wouldn’t know how.” He lies to her, basking in her innocent smile.

“That’s alright, Clark. You gave me something more than getting rid of my powers would’ve given me. You’ve let me be understood, and accepted, and it’s all I could’ve ever asked for.” She looks at him with bright eyes, leaning back in her hospital bed.

“What will you do now?” Clark asks her curious to know.

“Take a chill pill, relax a bit when it comes to school.” Sasha shrugs, “Maybe help Paul with the school administration. I want to study beekeeping, not with the intent to harm anyone of course,” She stammers at him, tugging on her I.V’s, “But the earth needs more bees you know? And even if I’m afraid, I figure I can put away my fears to help mankind. A hero helped me find my way, I figure it’s only fair I help others too.” Sasha smiles at him, and Clark sits content with the knowledge that there is only kindness in her now.

Talking about bees and their hives, Clark laughs along as they fall into a pun battle, trading puns worse than any bee sting, happy in having gained a friend.

“I have to get going. Are you sure you’re going to be okay alone?” He asks, feeling concern over this new and delicate version of Sasha.

Sasha blushes, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, “I’ll be fine. I’m feeling totally calm, and zen. No stress whatsoever.”

“ _G_ _reat_ _._ I’d better get going now, or sooner or later my parents will start handing out missing person flyers.” Clark jokes, slipping his jacket on, and collecting a pile of snack wrappers.

“Oh, Clark, before you go. Thank you,” Sasha says, and then pulls him in for a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you for not telling anyone about my powers.”

Clark chokes on his words, surprised by her forwardness, “Yeah. Anytime, Sasha, and remember, I’m here if you need me, alright?”

“Alright.” Sasha agrees, sitting back in her bed, and closing her eyes, the buzz of bees somber and gentle.

 

* * *

 

Carrie saunters into Lex’s study, carrying her recorder with a death grip.

Lex idly browses his library, pulling out books that would interest Clark, before decides to greet her, “Miss Castle. Thank you for coming.”

Carrie shrugs, and holds up her recorder, “I should probably know better, but I _had_ to hear this. You don't mind if I record our conversation for both of our protection, of course?” Carrie asks, aware of the wire hiding in her dress.

“Feel free.” Lex says with a carefree laughter, coming down the stairs and putting a pile of books on a cabinet, “I wanted to congratulate you, you impressed me. It’s not very often people catch me with my guard down.” Lex smiled, appearing to be properly thwarted.

“Let me guess,” Carrie guessed, looking at her fingernails, “This is where you try and blackmail me into changing my story?”

Lex raises an eyebrow at her, sitting across from where she took a seat. “I wouldn't dream of blackmailing you or making you change a word, Miss Castle, that’s just messy business.”

“Then, I guess we're done.” She smiles in triumph, shutting off the recorder and shoving it in her bag.

“But don’t you want to hear about the opening for Managing Editor at the Journal?” Lex asks, an inauspicious look in his eyes, as he crosses his legs.

“I work there.” Carrie spits, attempting to carry the same self confidence she had but a second ago, “If there was an opening, I would know about it.”

“Clearly we don't know the same people.” Lex shrugs, brushing off her hostility, “You could run your fair and balanced article word for word if you like, Miss Castle, or you could show up to work tomorrow and walk into a corner office. I would never have to raise another finger against you. What’s it going to be?”

“What's the catch?” She questions him, eyes narrowed and teeth bared.

“No catch.” Lex all but sings, and then does one better, “Well, _maybe_ one. If someone ever tries to blackmail you, now you'll have something to hide. How’s that for a first?”

Carrie scoffs at his snide comment, muttering to herself, “I don't know if you're better or worse than your father.”

“Oh trust me, Miss Castle, I’m _better_. What are you going to tell him when he finds out you refuse to publish?” Lex asks, looking at the revealing neckline of her dress.

“Who says he's behind it?” Carrie attempts to deflect, sitting the straightest she can, and fluffing her hair.

“Please,” Lex laughs at her, standing and plucking a small black wire from the seam of her dress, “Miss Castle, I've never insulted your intelligence, don't insult mine.” He waves the wire in her face, tucking it into his pocket.

Carrie’s jaw clenches and she forces a smile, “I'll tell him I got an offer I couldn't refuse.”

Lex reaches out to shake her hand, and he knows he has an unwitting accomplice. Carrie stands up to leave, unwilling to be in his presence a moment longer, and Lex follows behind, jacket and keys in hand.

 

* * *

 

Carefully walking up the wooden stairs, Lex pauses before the landing, watching as Clark carefully shoves something inside of a book, and hides it in his bookcase. Clark turns to his side, grabbing a book, and spreading out his finished school work, pretending to study, breathing nervously as Lex continues to watch him.

“Clark,” Lex greets, softly knocking on the wood. “What are you up to? I came by earlier, but your Mom and Dad said you hadn’t come home.”

“Studying,” Clark smiles, lying through his teeth, “I just wrapped up my essay for Mrs. Taylor. And I’m pretty much beat.” Clark stretches, the small of his stomach flashing as he raised his arms.

“I was helping a friend through a tough time earlier.” Clark says, putting away his schoolwork, and shoving his backpack aside.

“Do I know this friend?” Lex asked, tilting his head in question, and walking towards the open barn windows.

“Doubtful,” Clark muttered, joining Lex on looking out to the night sky, “Her name is Sasha. We weren’t originally close, but we’ve been talking about the birds and the bees.”

“What?!” Lex sputters, looking at Clark with a bewildered stare.

Clark stifles his laughter, strangely stone faced, “They’re both disappearing at an alarming rate. It’s no joking matter, Lex.” He says, as Lex hides his face, coughing up a lung as he laughs.

“What the hell, Clark? The b-birds and the bees,-” Lex tries to speak, a rosy flush crawling up his neck.

Clark snickers, watching Lex keel over from laughter, right onto a dusty floor that would be hell on his Versace. “You alright?” Clark asks, squatting down and poking Lex’s side.

“I’m fine. Great. Fantastic.” Lex sighs, grabbing Clark’s ankle and pulling him down to the floor with a heavy thud.

“Oof,” Clark groans, curling into Lex’s side, ignoring the heat in his belly, “Be a little more gentle, Lex. We can’t all be millionaires with ten layers of clothing.”

Lex scoffs, eyeing his shirt with a disdainful glance, “Says the one wearing plaid like it’s going out of fashion.”

“Plaid goes with everything, Lex. _Everything_. Even with more plaid, and I won’t listen to your slander. You’ll have to pry it away from my cold, dead hands.” Clark grumbles, tucked into Lex’s side comfortably.

“Well aren’t you just plaid-tastic? I’d rather not look like I stepped out of Smallville,” Lex teases, acutely aware of how close he and Clark’s bodies are pressed. He was thankful for all the layers now, Lex mused.

“Let’s take a nap, Lex.” Clark yawned, crawling to his chair and grabbing a folded blanket, before spreading it out and throwing it over top of Lex.

“On this hardwood? I think I’d rather die, Clark, than deal with the kinks my back will have.” Lex gripes, coming face to face with Clark’s pout.

“Then let me take a nap. You can do whatever. I’m all tuckered out, I need at least ten hours of sleep.” Clark rambled, throwing off his boots, slipping under the blanket and sticking to Lex’s side like a leech, “Night, Lex.”

Lex sputtered as Clark, against all odds, promptly fell asleep next to him, on the cold wooden floor of a creaky loft. Time seemed to blur, Lex thought, as he watched Clark slumber, slowly beginning to gently snore in his sleep.

Unintentionally, Lex’s eyes wandered to the bookcase, slanted and groaning under the weight of hazardous piles of books. He thought back to the book Clark had shoved into the bookcase, and against his better judgement, he quietly took off the blanket, and walked towards the bookcase.

Trying to peer past the stacks of books, Lex’s gaze slowly focused on a book crammed into the side, multiple books resting atop the harrowed title.

Working quickly, and watching Clark’s snoring figure like a hawk, Lex picked up the books and placed them aside, and upon grabbing the hidden book, stopped.

It was lighter, than he thought, and when he opened it, a hazardous cut piece of cloth greeted him. Gingerly opening the cloth wrapping, a small, hexagonal thing, fell into his hand.

Walking towards the window, Lex held it up to the moonlight, watching it reflect his image. Hearing a scuffle, Lex refrained from jumping, hiding the hexagon behind his back, and watched Clark curl up into a ball.

Sighing, Lex blinked when he felt small engravings on the disk. Taking his phone out, he looked upon a strange symbols, etched perfectly into the metallic hexagon. Eyeing Clark, Lex cautiously turned on the lamp, and snapped photos of the disk, looking at Clark with trepidation.

“What the hell is this, Clark?” He asked to a silent room, the chill of the wind, causing his skin to goosebump.

“Lex?” Clark asked, sleepily, not bothering to crack open his eyes.

“I’m here, Clark.” Lex said, watching his drowsing form, as he shoved the key and book back into the bookcase, “I was just leaving. Now, get up. I know your mother wouldn’t want you sleeping up in the drafty loft.”

“Right,” Clark nodded, as Lex tried to shake the sleep away from Clark, the mysterious disk not far from his thoughts.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come check me out on [Tumblr](http://just-kent-ing-around.tumblr.com/) for updates, progress reports, and snippets for future projects.


	16. Creeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's like a date,” Lana blushes as she talks to Clark.
> 
> “I never thought your love would be conditional, Clark.” Chloe shook her head.
> 
> "I can't believe I'm going to die a virgin, Lana." Clark grumbles, with a sorrowful look on his face.
> 
> “You knew me when I was nine, Pamela. I was a smug, entitled, and terrified of my father more than heights." Lex's voice quivered as he spoke, and he hated himself for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Justin didn't come out the way I wanted him too, but I guess I have to live with it. You can only go so far without having permanent trauma being inflicted on a character and I don't want to hurt my sweets too bad. ~~They deserve better!~~
> 
> On the upside, _plot movement!_ Gosh, you gotta love plot movement.  
>  We're now officially in the final stretch, and season one is drawing to a close. You're all gonna like the way it ends. Trust me. ~~Or don't, who knows, maybe I'm a filthy liar...~~
> 
> Hope you all enjoy the chapter, and like it enough to leave a comment <3

“Unrequited love differs from mutual love,

Just like delusion differs from the truth.” - George Sand

 

* * *

 

Clark yawns, sitting hunched as the early morning sun breaks past the horizon, Lana tearing through her closet.

"It's like a date,” Lana blushes as she talks to Clark. “But what should I wear?" She asks, as Clark sits awkwardly at on her bed, watching Lana throw clothes his way.

"Something green, maybe?" Lana mutters, "Should I try to match her eyes? Is that too much?" She asks, looking into her closet dubiously, pulling out the little green she has.

"I might have to go buy new clothes. What if we have to look professional?” She turns on her heel, and huffs, “Clark you're being _no_ help." Lana complains, almost screaming when she sees Clark moving in tandem with a strapless blue dress, gazing at himself in her mirror.

"What? It matches my eyes." He says, batting his eyelashes in her direction.

Lana throws her head back with laughter, “You’d look lovely, but I doubt it could fit on your shoulders, Clark. Now, come on, help me decide what to wear!” She whines, throwing more clothes on her bed.

“Why is this so important again? It’s just some conference in Metropolis, Lana.” He yawns, “You totally didn’t have to wake me up so early and drag me into your car.”

At Lana’s glare he freezes, “Er. Wrong thing to say...It’s definitely important, and why didn’t I see it sooner that you’d look like a goddess in a black pencil skirt, and classic white blouse?” Clark chuckled nervously, diverting Lana’s attention to more clothes.

She delicately tweaked his nose, “You’re lucky I love you, Clark Kent.” She said in an ominous voice.

“I sure am,” He agrees breezily, looking through her collection of shoes, “What about some Mary Jane pumps to complete the look? I can guarantee that you will one thousand percent, murder people with how cool you’ll look. Absolutely boujee.” He jumps up, heels dangling from his hands.

“Let me try it on, and then we’ll see. I’m running out of hope,” Lana complains, skittering into the bathroom with clothes and heels.

“If all else fails, we can hit the shops!” Clark yells at her through the bathroom door, “And you forgot your tights!” He says, wrapping them around the door knob, knocking and then turning away.

“Thank you!” Lana peeks out, grabbing the tights and closes the door.

Idly waiting for Lana to dress, Clark begins to organize her closet, the years beset by Diana’s fashion coming into play. “Some of this is really dated.” Clark mutters, eyeing it as if it would bite him.

“Done!” Lana throws open the bathroom door, stepping out and looking every part the lady.

Clark claps appropriately as Lana spins in a circle, “I am so excited! Thank you! I don’t think I would’ve ever combined that together. God, I even look different and I don’t even have makeup on!” Lana smiles brightly, checking herself out in the mirror.

“Well, get undressed Narcissus cause if you don’t hurry we won’t be able to get some muffins on the way to school, and you _promised_.” Clark sulks, trying to drown Lana in his puppy dog eyes.

“I’m on it!” She says, slipping off her shirt as Clark shields his eyes and cries out in horror.

“I don’t want to look at you!” Clark laments, hiding his face in her curtains.

“Too bad! I’ve tainted your eyes forevermore,” Lana gleefully crows, throwing on a casual blue shirt, and a pair of clunky jeans. “Now we can go get those muffins!”

 

* * *

 

Chloe steps away from the Daily Planet stall, stopping to gaze upon Lana as she waltzes into the busy room.

“Did you know that the Daily Planet only takes four high school interns from the whole state?” Chloe sighs, leaning into Lana’s soft embrace.

“Then you’ll definitely be one, no matter what. I brought muffins,” She said, shaking the bag with an arm wrapped around Chloe.

“Tell their outreach officer, he said they received over five hundred applicants last year. Even with all of my portfolio, I doubt I'll even get an interview.” She grumbles, but grins as Lana opens the bag to pass her a banana nut muffin. “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t thank me,” Lana says through a bite of muffin, “Thank Clark. He was complaining the whole way about not being able to stand the hunger so I gave in.”

“ _Lies_ ,” Clark teases, appearing from a throng of people, “You promised we’d go get muffins if I agreed to get up early, and I did. And now I love you for only one day.” Clark savored the first bite of his muffin, the bittersweet chocolate melting on his tongue.

“I never thought your love would be conditional, Clark,” Chloe shook her head.

“Only when it comes to muffins. If the muffin man were real, I think I’d marry him. I’d never be unhappy a day in my life.” He says, gazing dreamily up to the ceiling, “Also, didn't Lex offer to hook you up at the Inquisitor?”

Chloe shakes her head stubbornly, “No. I'm interning at the Planet, even if all they have me do is deliver coffee. It would be invaluable for my portfolio and it would put me head and shoulders above the rest of the applying competition.”

“You could always try when we’re in Metropolis next weekend? See if you can’t convince some people with sway?” Lana murmured, dragging them away from the crowd of people.

“I like your idea,” Chloe beams, and heads to her locker, Clark and Lana not far behind.

Cheerfully, she shoves several binders in, and slams it shut, a hand shooting out to grab her shoulder.

Chloe jumps at the touch, quickly turning away, before smiling in astonishment, “Justin? How are you? It's so good to see you! When did you get back?” She starts to shoot off questions, missing the commiserating look Lana and Clark share.

Justin shuffles around, “Yesterday. Listen, I just wanted to thank you by the way for sending all those e-mails.” He laughs nervously, “They really got me through a tough time.”

Chloe shakes off the complement, “Well, I'm sure that lots of people kept in touch.”

“You'd be surprised.” He complains trying not to sound bitter, “For most of my friends it was out of sight out of mind. I’m glad you were there.”

“Well in any case, I’d glad you’re back! So, when can you start drawing your cartoon again, everybody's been waiting for the further adventures of the flaming crows feet. You wouldn’t believe the complaints I’ve gotten.” She says, slightly fixing her hair.

Justin pauses and looks to his hands, a harsh look in his eyes, “Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be doing drawings anytime soon.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” Chloe says in sympathy, gently patting his shoulder.

“It's okay. I'm in the process of re-evaluating my life.” Justin shrugs, and then leans in, “So listen, is there any chance that maybe I could buy you a cup of coffee, or one of those non-fat no foam lattes that you like? I heard the Beanery was having a sale?” He looks at her hopefully, and Clark sucks in a sharp breath at the frigid look on Lana’s face.

“Yeah, that’d be nice. But not at the Beanery, you wouldn’t believe how many health violations they’ve had. A new place opened up, the Talon, it has the best coffee and- Lana!” Chloe yells, grabbing Lana from where she stands and shoving her in front, “Lana manages it part time. Lana this is Justin, he used to be the old comic artist for the Torch! And you know Clark, right?” Chloe asked, unwillingly pulling Clark into the conversation.

“Hi,” Both Lana and Clark mirrored each other, as Justin looked at them briefly, nodding, and then turning to Chloe, blocking them out.

 

* * *

 

Lex breathes in the early morning smog of Metropolis, carefully setting down a bouquet of orchids into the vase as he had every year. Staring lovingly at the name engraved in granite, he kneels to the floor, the urge to trace her name palpable. A reflection catches in the smooth granite, and a deep anger stirs to life in him at the sight of Pamela’s face. Slowly, he stands in between Pamela and his mother’s grave, as if he could protect her from the treachery of the living. As if he could protect her in death the way he couldn’t in life. Lex let out a chilly breath, the voice that he spoke with unkind and frigid, “What are _you_ doing here?”

“For the same reason you are. The anniversary of her death.” Pamela answers, approaching him timidly.

“It's been nine years. Why the sudden burst of sentimentality? Is your money running that low?” Lex asked, his questions sharped to fight.

Pamela stepped back, clutching an arm that wanted to stretch out and touch Lex, “I deserved that, just disappearing from your life, I-”

“I'm sure all the LuthorCorp stock my mother left you helped ease the pain.” Lex ground his teeth, looking at Pamela’s drawn and pale face.

“Is that what your father told you?” Pamela asked, the shock evident in her tone.

“All those years I thought you loved me. You cared for me, for my mother, in a world where everything could’ve ended at a moment’s notice. We were all each other had, but you were just in it for the money.” Lex shook his head, gently patting his mother’s headstone before walking away.

“I know you're angry with me,” Pamela yells at his back, straining her voice, “You have every right to be, but we need to talk.” She begs, her teary blue eyes, begging Lex to turn around and listen.

Lex scoffs, barely turning his head to look at her, “I don’t believe there’d be anything worth listening to that would come out of your mouth. Goodbye Pamela. Try not to disgrace my mother’s grave with your presence too long.” He spits, briskly walking away from his mother’s grave.

 

* * *

 

Dutifully pointing at the colorful comic, Chloe smiles brightly, “This one's definitely my favorite strip.”

“Really?” Justin asks, raising his eyebrows as Chloe agrees more insistently.

“Yes. Do you want me to say it a hundred times more for you to believe it?” Chloe teases him, as Justin ducks his head and smiles.

“Do you-” Justin pauses, as the door to the Torch is wrenched open with a knock as an afterthought.

Lana enters, beaming falsely, with Clark at her back cheerfully waving.

“Hey Chloe, Justin. How’s class going?” Lana asks, no trace of jealousy on her glowing face.

“Oh, um...I’m just kind of taking it one day at a time. And the teachers are pretty forgiving for a guy with two messed up hands.” Justin explains, rambling on before becoming quiet.

“Right,” Clark tried not to sound uninterested, “Are you going to continue your work with the  Torch? You don’t have to be an artist, although I guess it’s your thing?” Clark questions, rubbing his chin.

“We’ll see. I’m barely keeping up with the workload as is, I’d hate to get swamped. But if you ever need me Chloe, I’d definitely give it one hundred and ten percent.” He smiled at Chloe, as she laughed.

“That’s so nice of you,” Lana cut in, as a warning bell began to ring.

“Okay. Uh... I should probably get going. Class won’t wait for for me,” Justin turns to leave but drops a folder he's carrying, papers spilling over the tiled floor of the Torch.

Quickly, everyone decides to help out, as Justin stands helplessly looking at his bandaged hands. Clark picks up a page from the Metropolis Inquisitor, trading a look with Lana as she catches a quick glance before Justin hastily snatches it away.

“Thank you, guys. I’d better get going now.” He smiles at Chloe, and nods to Clark and Lana, walking away with their stares on his back.

 

* * *

 

“Tell me you didn’t think that was weird.” Lana asked, opening the screen door to the Kent Farm.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but yeah, it was weird.” Clark grimaces, following Lana through the door and throwing off his jacket.

“I mean there could be a perfectly normal reason Justin has a newspaper clipping of a doctor in a freak accident, right?” Lana says, digging through the fridge.

“In this town?” Clark scoffs, and raises an eyebrow at Lana, “We’ll be lucky if nothing happens within a week.”

_“ Clark_ ,” Lana huffs at him, grumbling as she makes herself a sandwich, “Why do I feel like you’ve just cursed me?”

“Because obviously nothing is sane and holy in this town.” Clark complains, making his own sandwich.

“I just don’t even want to think about it. Did you see the way he smiled at her? He was just so close to her and Chloe didn’t seem to mind!” Lana scowled, balefully stacking her sandwich.

Clark took a hungry bite of his food, as they walked to the living room.

"She's just so focused on Justin, and I mean it's stupid to feel this way. I know it's a new relationship, but I know Chloe and I know she wouldn't just up and like someone else." Lana mutters, nibbling at her sandwich.

"Right," Clark agrees with her, swallowing down his food, "They're just friends, Lana, and she's just welcoming him back to Smallville. Even if Justin does like Chloe, she has you, I'd say she's pretty lucky."

"Yeah, we both are." Lana shakes her head and decides to stop worrying, lying comfortably on the couch, "What about you, Clark? Who do you have? It must be hard for you to see us together and not have anyone of your own." Lana asks, looking at him in sympathy.

"I'm alright," Clark lies dropping Lana’s head into his lap, "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm a bit-"

"Gay?" Lana raises an eyebrow, stifling a question with her sandwich.

"Bi, actually. Like maybe thirty-four percent women, and sixty-six percent men." Clark hums, flicking the television on and changing the channel.

"And one hundred percent Lex?" Lana asks dryly, elbowing him accidentally in the stomach and wincing, as she shifts to look at the T.V.

Clark lets out an unintelligible garble of noise, "Why does everyone know? Am I that obvious? I thought I was hiding it well."

"You're not that obvious, it's just, people that know you are eventually going to realize, Clark. I suppose we're bisexual buddies, then?" Lana smiles up at him, mournfully almost done with her sandwich.

"Right on!" Clark cheers and then pauses, the t.v chattering in front of them, "You're bi, too?"

"Yep. I dated Whitney didn't I? Admittedly, it depends on how I feel, unless they have certain type of hair color. Redheads and blondes are beautiful," Lana sighed, remembering Chloe's short blonde locks.

"Sweet," Clark cooed, turning the volume up on a Buffy rerun.

"Anyways, I hope you weren't thinking about actually starting something with Lex Luthor?" Lana said, crossing her arms, trying not to shift her attention to Buffy.

"Why do you ask?" Clark murmurs, narrowing his eyes.

"You're not legal yet, and if the press ever finds out any hanky panky went on, he'll be accused of grooming. I know we're teenagers, and rebellion is the name of the game, but this could seriously hurt a lot of people, Clark." Lana said, becoming serious at a moment's notice.

"I know that..." Clark pouted at her look.

"Now," He amended pursing his lips. "Lex has laid down a lot of rules, one of which being that we're not to even think about being in a relationship until either us can be thrown into prison for it. I can't believe I'm going to die a virgin, Lana."

Lana snickered at his hyperbole, smiling wickedly, "Don't worry, when you're skeletons you'll be able to bone all you'll like."

"Monster," Clark japed, howling with laughter, “Anyways, did you need something, other than a willing ear?”

“Yeah, a dozen pies. They’re selling and I can barely remember what the case looked like full.” Lana sighs, before she watches t.v., “Where’s your mom?”

“In class. You should’ve seen her, she was so excited to get back to school. I made her take a picture and everything.” Clark gloated, jotting down the number of pies on a notepad closeby, before reaching over and showing off a printed photo to Lana.

Flipping it around, Lana warmed at the caption on the back, _Ma’s second first day of college, we’ve never been so proud_. She saw, written in Clark’s neat scrawl, a picture of the Kent Family, and Lex Luthor surrounding Martha Kent with a backpack and a large pile of books, all flashing a smile for the camera.

 

* * *

 

Lana leans on a locker, closing her book shut when someone taps her shoulder.

“Clark,” She smiles at him, “What’d you find?”

Clark waves a piece of paper in her face,“You’ll never believe it. The photo that Justin had in his portfolio yesterday...the doctor in that headline was someone assigned to Justin’s surgery. I hate to tell you, but yeah, it’s getting weirder and weirder. Especially because he was carrying it around,” Clark comments, pretending not to notice that Justin had arrived.

“He might be a good person?” Lana mumbles, staring at the headline in trepidation.

Clark gives her a unimpressed look, as Lana begins to ask something, pausing when she sees Justin out of the corner of her eyes.

“I liked the tragic irony. It helps me fall asleep a little better at night. Do you always talk about people behind their backs, Clark?” Justin crosses his arms, stepping up to Clark.

“I-uhm, look Justin...” Clark plays hesitant, as Justin begins to invade his personal space.

“So I start spending a little time with Chloe, you realize she exists and want me out of the picture, right?” Justin shakes his head as Clark chokes, throwing nervous glances to Lana.

“Chloe and I are _just_ friends.” Clark winces, as Lana fumes at his side.

“You had your chance with her.” Justin spits, jabbing a hand at his chest, before drawing back in pain, “Now you let me have mine.” Justin turns on his heel and down the hallway, Lana practically lighting him on fire with her gaze.

“Was I literally not right here?” Lana bristled, staring at the headline, “Why the hell did he ask you that?”

Clark shrugs, “Hell, if I know. Are you going to want some help?”

“No,” Lana shakes her head, trying to calm herself down, “I’m going to calm down, do my shift at the Talon, and _then_ talk to Chloe. So I can guarantee that I don’t seem like a jealous insecure floozy.” Lana nods determinedly, thanks Clark, and walks off with an angry look.

“Good luck!” Clark yells at her, and sighs, wondering if the cards would fall the same way.

 

* * *

 

Lex stalks into his office, looking upon Pamela reading a book, “What the hell are you doing here? God, I need to replace my staff. I keep walking into people I really don’t want to meet.” Lex mutters, looking at Pamela through the corner in his eye.

Pamela carefully put the thick book back on the shelf, and looked at him, her blue eyes shining with fondness, “I wanted to see what kind of young man you'd grown into.”

“A very busy one. So if you have nothing else to say, Pamela...” Lex trailed off, leaving her to a chance to leave without strong words.

“We were close once, Alexander, you were like a son to me, and your mother was like a sister in all but blood.” Pamela grasped for a connection with Lex, as he walked past her and towards his desk.

“You were an employee, Mrs Jenkins, no matter how close you may have gotten to us. You were paid to watch me while my mother's health failed. While my father cared less and less for his wife and son. He needed a person to look after the both of us, and then be trusted to go leave without a fuss.” Lex crossed his arms, staring at Pamela’s bowed form.

“I loved you like my own. After the meteor shower, after you lost your hair, your father couldn’t bare to look at you. I was the _one_ person who never looked at you differently, Alexander.” She begged him, desperately wishing to embrace his weary shoulders.

Lex scoffed, barely managing to look upon her without contempt. His voice quivers, and he can feel the self loathing bubbling up, because Luthors never quiver, “You knew me when I was nine, Pamela. I was a smug, entitled, and terrified of my father more than heights. Things have changed. _I've_ changed. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to know what really happened, why I left.” Pamela answered, clutching her hands nervously.

Lex frowned, shaking his head, “You lied to my mother on her deathbed. Do you honestly think I’d ever forgive you for that?”

“I didn't. I had every intention of staying but your father sent me away. After the funeral, he called me into his office and he told me if I ever had contact with you again that he would disinherit you.” Pamela explained, looking Lex fearlessly in the eyes.

“Why would he do that?” Lex asked, leaning on his desk.

“Because he wanted you to be _his_ son, a Luthor amidst the sheep. He wanted you to be nothing like your mother, and everything like him.”

“Why show up now, then?” Lex walked towards her, eyes frigid, “Has the statute of limitations on my father's threat expired? Has the guilt of my mother’s promise been eating at you, Pamela?”

Pamela blinked rapidly, almost reaching for Lex before pulling away, “I will carry that regret with me to the grave, Alexander. I needed to see if you'd found a way to be true to yourself in spite of Lionel's efforts, to be human in a way he never was. And to be honest, I... I wanted your forgiveness.”

Lex looked upon Pamela, a woman held together with remorse, and desperation, and he would’ve sneered if not for the child in his heart longing for her, “I'm afraid you'll have to find a way to grant it to yourself.”

Her eyes quickly become teary, and Lex looks away, walking back to his desk and flipping open folders.

“Goodbye, Alexander.” Pamela speaks into the quiet room, walking away with her head held low, and hope dragging by her feet.

 

* * *

 

Clark cheerfully places several pies on wire racks, as Lana mans the counter to the Talon.

Lana leans against the counter, watching the people hustle around the Talon, and smiles, “I wish everything sold as well as your mother's organic apple pies.” She laughs to herself, and hands Clark a wad of cash looking to the pies with a dreamy look.

“Well, every little bit helps, Lana. Especially if I make them and get to keep the cash.” Clark winks at her, grinning when Whitney waves at them.

“Hey Clark! Lana!” Whitney walks into the Talon, brushing his hair back with his fingers.

“Hey Whitney! How's your Dad doing?” Clark asks, trying not to look at Whitney with sorrow.

“On the mend, happy to be home and watch football all day. He drives my mother insane, but they love each other.” Whitney grumbles goodnaturedly.

Clark beams at him, “That’s great Whitney!”

“What’d you call me here for, anyways? You said it was important?” Whitney asked, looking around the Talon.

“Yeah,” Clark breaks into a dance, grabs Whitney and pulls him out back into the alleyway, Lana yelling them goodbye, “Guess who’s gonna go dirt biking?”

“Are you serious, Clark? How did you get these?” Whitney balked, looking at the bikes in awe, standing on the back of the Kent truck.

“I may have convinced Old Ames to let me rent them for a day...” Clark waggled his eyebrows at Whitney, “So, are you going to join me?” He pleaded, tugging on Whitney’s arm.

“I’d be a dick if I didn’t. Where are we gonna go?” Whitney asked, wrapping Clark in a short hug.

“Out past Riley’s field, you know Miller’s Bend? There’s some cool trails that are perfect for biking. Hop in and we can get on the road. I even made sandwiches.” Clark wags his eyebrows, pointing to the wicker basket in the back seat.

“This is going to be fun.” Whitney cheered, hopping into the passenger side, and hollering into the wind.

 

* * *

 

Chloe looks up as Justin enters the Torch office, “Hey! I e-mailed the partial license plate details of your hit and run to my contact over at the DMV. I told him to start with all the cars in the county. He said that he would fax me whatever information he found. I know we didn’t really talk about it, but-”

Justin stopped walking towards her and broke into a huge smile, “Wow. Thanks. I mean I didn’t think you’d be able to get anywhere. Not that I’m doubting your abilities, but it’s been a while and I’m pretty sure my case went cold.”

“Don’t even worry about it, I’m on the case, and I won’t let it go unsolved.”

“Uh, here,” Justin handed her a picture, “It took me all night. I-just- you’ve been good to me Chloe.”

Chloe smiles at him, and opens the rolled piece of paper, her stomach dropping nervously, “Oh. Wow. How...beautiful.” She keeps up her smile, even as Justin walks closer looking to her shyly.

Justin rocks on his heels, looking to Chloe with a frozen smile on her face, “Did you know that after that car hit me and I was lying in the road, I kept picturing your face.”

“Me, why me?” Chloe asked, the adrenaline in her legs building.

“I always had the biggest crush on you, and I was too afraid to do anything about it. The whole time I worked at the Talon, I thought she’s so great, so amazing, how could I ever even tell her? And when that car hit me, I thought I was going to die. I didn’t think about my parents, or school, or how I was too young to die. I thought, I'm never going to get the chance to tell her how I feel. I thought I was going to die on that road, but then I survived.” Justin says, closing in on a apprehensive Chloe.

“I survived and it felt like the world forgot me. But when you started e-mailing me when I was in the hospital, I knew that it was my chance and I wasn't going to let you get away twice. I fought my way back for you.” He said, looking at her tenderly.

Chloe gapes at him, as he draws too close, and she gently places her hands on his shoulders and shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Justin, but I don’t like you that way. You’re a great friend, a good person whose life has been devastated, but I can’t-”

Justin steps back looking heart broken, “What? But the emails! You were the only one there for me, Chloe. Why don’t you like me back?” He questions frustration seeping into his words, the objects around him beginning to spin and levitate. The objects crash back down, clattering to the floor like the steps of ten thousand soldiers.

Chloe startled, steps away from Justin, “What just happened?”

“I-I don’t want to hurt you, Chloe. I just want be with you.” Justin begged, as the pencils and objects began to lift up into the air, twisting erratically.

“C-Can I think about it?” Chloe asked, palms sweaty and heart racing.

Justin broke into a smile, “Y-yes. Think about it, I know I haven’t been around as long Clark, but I do like you.”

“R-right,” Chloe stuttered, flashing a tense smile, “How did that happen? The floating stuff?”

Justin laughed, flushing,“Something happened to me after the accident. Then when I was in the hospital I found that I could move things with my mind. I  know it’s weird but I’m hoping you think it makes me a bit special...”

“Telekinesis, just another thing to think about yeah?” Chloe attempted to joke, purposely stepping away from Justin by pretending to be busy with organizing papers.

“Yeah-,” Justin nodded, scowling when the door flew open, and Lana stepped into the room.

“Hey Chloe, can I talk to you outside for a second?” Lana asked, waving timidly to Justin.

“Yeah, sure,” Chloe dropped the papers, grabbing her bag from a chair, and flashed a smile goodbye to Justin before practically dragging Lana out by the hand.

“Are you okay? You seem eager to leave.” Lana probed, as Chloe dragged her further and further down the hallway.

“Just happy to see you,” Chloe said, melting into Lana’s embrace, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Uhm, so I was kind of jealous because you’ve been so close Justin. I know you’re just friends and it’s stupid of me, but I was jealous. And then earlier, Justin told Clark to back off because he had his chance with you, and Justin said he deserved his. I got really nervous, because I know he likes you more than a friend- and I know relationships shouldn’t be built on lies or doubt-”

Chloe plants a kiss on Lana’s lips, their kiss cleverly hidden by their previous hug.

I know.” Chloe says, breaking the kiss and pecking Lana’s cheek, “He confessed to me just before you came.”

“And what did you tell him?” Lana asked, biting her lip.

“That I thought he was a good friend, but then he started acting real... _weird_. So I told him I’d think about it, instead. Next time we’re together, I’ll have Clark be the muscle.” Chloe joked, but the smile slipped off her face at the frigid look on Lana’s.

“Lana?”

“I’m sorry it’s just- He didn’t like you saying no, Chloe. I know you messaged him a bunch and that you’re friends but, I don’t want you getting hurt because he can’t take no for an answer. There’s something not _right_ about him, Chloe.” Lana pleaded, tearing up as she spoke.

“I’ll be fine. Justin and I our friends, and he’s not the type of guy to hurt a person just for deciding to stay friends. Trust me?” Chloe brushed a stray tear rolling down Lana’s cheek away.

“Yeah,” Lana sniffled, and gave a small grin, as the bell rang down the hallway, “I’ll trust you.”

 

* * *

 

“I fell into a cave,” Clark yells up at Whitney, currently crowded over the opening he’d created upon impact.

“Are you okay?” Whitney asks, yelling into the hole.

“Yeah I’m fine, but wow, that was a rush.” Clark laughs, “Can you go grab the rope?” He asks, as Whitney makes a noise of agreement and runs off.

Mesmerized as the first time he’d seen the cave wall, Clark slowly traces the opening where the key would land, gently tracing the hexagon and the pictures all over the wall.

“Soon,” He speaks to the wall, to his Ukr, so full of rage, and egotism. With all his heart, mind, and soul, Clark hopes that his Éú, loving, strong, and willful also waits in the key this time.

Waiting for Whitney, looking upon the ancient pictures of Naman, Clark can see his past playing out before him, pock ridden with mistakes and regret. His past plastered upon the wall, and in a fit of remorse, Clark wants nothing more than to let the heat behind his eyes build and erase it all. But it isn’t only his history, this Legend of Naman. It is not only his to erase, utterly pivotal to the Kawatche people, and their culture and he would see Lex preserve it, away from the hands of Lionel.

A rope clatters down the hole, swinging wildly before Clark manages to catch it, “Thanks, Whitney. Do you want to come down here? There are some pretty cool pictures on the wall.”

“How about we save that for later, when we’re both sure you don’t have a concussion, alright?” Whitney yells down at him, a worried look on his face.

“Fine,” Clark mutters, making his way up the rope, and tumbling over as Whitney hauls him up over the opening.

“Come here,” Whitney motions, “Let me see your eyes.” He asks, grabbing a flashlight from his pocket.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Clark huffs, angling himself so that Whitney can easily look into his eyes.

Squinting into the flashlight, Whitney practically pries apart his eye lids, checking to see if his pupils had dilated beyond normal. “Okay, you look normal. That’s good, but I’d feel better if we could get you to a hospital.”

“What? Come on, Whitney, I’m fine. I feel like I could totally fall another time.” Clark joked, laughing at the put upon look on Whitney’s face.

“Don’t go falling down every hole you see, Alice. Are you sure you don’t want to head to a hospital?” Whitney asks again, prodding Clark’s face.

“Nah,” Clark shakes his head, “Lets just enjoy right now. After all, I’m going to kick your butt next race, promise.”

Whitney runs to his bike, and smirks at Clark. Revving the engine, he laughs loudly, “Eat my dust, Kent.”

Clark bellows with outrage, coughing at the dirt Whitney kicked up, “Cheater!”

 

* * *

 

Night falls onto Smallville, a soliloquy of rain and thunder playing to all of Smallville’s residents. Clark hurriedly walks towards the Kwan residence, rain soaking into his jacket, and hair plastered to his face.

Pretending to pass by, Clark pauses at the open garage and knocks on the door, Teresa Kwan blinking at him, “Hi, Clark Kent, I was just passing by, but your garage is open? I just thought I’d tell you before you got robbed or something.”

“Oh, thank you,” Teresa Kwan smiles at him, “James must’ve forgotten to close it. And in such bad weather too.” Teresa shivers and rubs her arms, “I’d offer you a ride,” Teresa looks at his soaked jacket, “But James took the car. Be safe out there all right, Mr. Kent?”

“I will,” Clark smiles at her, before turning away and running to the end of the street, truck cleverly hidden, when a shrill scream breaks the final act of the storm, and Clark knows she has found James Kwan.

 

* * *

 

Clark towel dries his hair, twisting it to rest upon his head, comfortably putting his nose in a book and splaying out in the loft.

Heavy footsteps make the wooden stairs creek, and Clark looks up from his book to see Lex standing over him. ”Lex!” Clark greets, smiling up at him, “Why are you here so late?”

Lex sits heavily beside him, “I came to talk to your parents about the settlement. Did you know that they want me to come along cattle shopping with them?”

“Do they? Why don’t you want to go? It’d be a good bonding experience.” Clark asks, looking pleadingly at Lex.

Lex laughs, but shakes his head, “Can you imagine? Me and cattle? While I’m wearing Versace?”

“Go buy some jeans then. And some lace up boots. Dad will even buy you your first plaid shirt.” Clark jokes, watching Lex get paler and paler.

“It would be a disgrace to the Luthor name, me in plaid. Thanks for giving me nightmare fuel,” Lex grumbles, plucking the book from Clark’s hands.

“What are you reading?” He turns the book over, keeping a finger on Clark’s current page. “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus?” Lex raises an eyebrow at Clark, as Clark maintains an innocent look.

“What? It’s a book that can help me get an outlook on the hum-female psyche.” Clark grabs the book back, shoving a worn bookmark into its’ pages.

“I doubt you'll find it reading a book and not experiencing it first hand, coming at you with lipstick, Clark. Is there a problem?” Lex asks, peering down at Clark, curled up on the floor.

“I’m trying to be supportive, Lex. I've got these two amazing friends who both happen to be girls,-”

“For argument's sake, let's call them Lana and Chloe.” Lex leans into Clark, poking at his taut stomach.

“They’re both going through different periods in their lives, and I want them to know I’m there for them. I know I’m not a girl, and we don’t emote the same way, but I’m still their friend, and I want to support them with all that I can.”

“Okay,” Lex blinked, staring at Clark, “When you started talking, that isn’t what I was expecting.” Lex muttered, relief slithering into his tone.

Clark smacked Lex with the book playfully, “Not like I’ve moved on, Warrior Angel. Any advice you can offer?”

Lex pursed his lips, tapping a finger against his thigh, “Be patient, understanding, and under no circumstances, tell a teenage girl that her heels are better than her personality.”

Clark choked on his laughter, curling into a smaller ball on the floor, the towel on his head falling onto the floor, “Speaking from personal experience?”

“I can still feel that slap in my dreams, if that’s what you mean.” Lex smiled, and then became somber, “I've only loved two women in my life, Clark. One died and the other betrayed me. Women, despite what a misogynistic world might have you believe, are very complex, powerful, and resilient people. I know it might not seem like much, coming from me and the way I’ve treated some women in the past, but respecting and listening to a woman is one of the greatest things you can do for her.”  

“Right, thanks for the advice, I’ll take it to heart, Lex.”

“I know you will.” Lex says, as Clark’s head rests on his thigh, the pitter-patter of rain hitting the barn walls.

“I found something today, Lex, when I was out with Whitney.” Clark bit his lip, watching Lex’s relaxed posture tense.

“Out with Whitney doing what?” Lex asked, taking a deep breath of the petrichor seeping through the window.

“Dirt Biking. I thought he could use some cheering up with everything that’s been happening with his dad. But that’s not the point, I fell into a cave when the bike threw me off-”

“Have you gone to the hospital?” Lex cut in, immediately lifting Clark’s chin, and poking at the corners of his eyes.

Clark swatted him away, and muttered, “I’m fine, you know I’m sturdy, Lex.”

“A bullet and a fall aren't the same thing, Clark.” Lex chided, letting go of Clark’s chin.

“Yeah, one’s worse, and it isn’t the fall. Anyway, the cave I fell in. It had real weird paintings on the walls, strange symbols too, now that I think about it.” Clark mumbled, giving a throwaway glance to his bookcase, knowing Lex followed his every move.

“Where did you say this cave was, Clark?” Lex asked, wrapping his arms around Clark’s shoulders.

“I didn’t. It’s around Miller’s Bend, out past Riley Field.” Clark said, smug satisfaction curling in his gut, Lex’s fingers insistently tapping on his back.

“You’ll have to show me,” Lex comments, pulling away, and standing, “It must be something spectacular if you’re interested in it. I’ve got to get going. Try not to get caught in the rain, yeah?”

“No promises,-” Clark mumbles, blinking as his mother appears at the stairs, “Ma? What’s wrong?”

Martha stares nervously at the bottom of the stairs and then to him, “Some officers want to ask you a couple questions, sweetheart.” Martha’s smile is stiff as the officers climb up the stairs, and smile at him, “What is this about? And why would you need to question my son?”

“I am not allowed to discuss the details, Ma’am. However, I will need to talk to your son, we won’t be but a moment.” The officer nods, as his partner begins to shoo a befuddled Martha and Lex down the stairs and out of the barn.

“Can I help you, Officer?” Clark asks, as the man makes to get out his notepad.

“Yes, Mrs. Teresa Kwan said you’d knocked on her door and told her the garage was open?” The officer shuffles, looking at him intently.

“Yes, sir.”

“Can you tell me how you came to that situation?” The man scribbles on his notepad, tapping his foot.

“I was walking back from Old Ames, since my Dad had the truck.” He lied, “I’d rented his old dirt bikes off of him for the day to go ride around the trails. It was really starting to get dark, and with the rain I didn’t want to say out too late. I’d noticed the garage open, so I walked up, knocked on the door and told her the garage was wide open.” Clark speaks honestly, making eye contact with the gruff officer before looking away.

“Right. Good job, then, kiddo.” The officer smiles at him, and something like admiration flashes in his eyes.

“Is that all? Can I know why you’re asking me this?” Clark acts concerned, widening his eyes and flaring his nostrils.

“You saved a life is all. Your principal, James Kwan was almost crushed to death by his car, and not one person had noticed. We’re thinking gear failure, a goddamn accident, but we won’t know for certain until he wakes up. His wife, daughter, and son, all at the time were in the house, thought he’d gone out to get supplies for work, so no one noticed anything wrong. The papers’ll be talking about it all tomorrow. He’s goddamn lucky you’re just kind enough to tell his wife the garage was open. Thank you for your time, Mr. Kent, I’ll be going now.” The officer flips closed his notepad, and shoves it into his jacket, and with one last nod, he heads down the stairs.

“Yeah. Wait, is he going to be allowed visitors?” Clark asks, remembering the thought of a psychopathic Justin, following behind.

“No, sorry kiddo. Just family until he wakes. If he wakes. Doctors say he’s pretty banged up for gear failure. Come on, Ortiz, we’ve gotta get going, those reports won’t write themselves!” He yells to his partner, exiting the barn, and hopping into the police cruiser.

Clark waves goodbye, as his mother, father, and Lex swarm him, their questions jumbling into each others. “Uhm, so I am not in trouble, just so you know. They wanted to ask about my whereabout that led to a situation.”

“What situation?” Jonathan asked, close to cradling his son in his arms, as Martha held his arms tightly, stalk rigid, and pale. Lex was little better, pretending to be casual, but unwilling to take his eyes off of Clark.

“It’s Principal Kwan, he’s been in an accident.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey guys.” Clark bursts into the Torch bright and early, “How’s everything going?”

Chloe sighs, slumping in her seat, “I’m trying to do my best, but I can barely concentrate. With everything happening with Justin, and now Principal Kwan had an accident...” Chloe rubbed her temples, “If I don’t already have a migraine, I will.” She mutters, grabbing papers, stopping to read a police report.

“James Kwan's police report. Apparently his car was still on, and the officers on the scene, noted it probably slipped into gear. An almost tragic accident.”

“Chloe, are you ok?” Clark asks, leaning against the desk.

“Life is a lot right now. I’m just figuring out how to process. I’m not in the best mood either.” Chloe grumbles, as Clark looks at the screen.

“Chloe,” He says, pointing over her shoulder, “Zoom in on that car’s license plate.” Chloe does as he bids, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “The first three numbers! The first three from Kwan’s license plate match the driver that hit Justin. Did you ever message your DMV contact?”

Chloe pauses, and turns slightly pale, “Yes, but it never came through."

 

“Four forty-three yesterday afternoon,” Clark reads off of the screen, looking at her from the corner of his eyes, “That's right around the time you were here with Justin.”

"Clark, I don’t like what you’re hinting at.” She says frowning, but worried, tapping nervously on the desk. “Look, okay, maybe he likes me. Maybe he has jealousy issues or something, but he couldn't have done it. I know him and he wouldn't hurt anyone.” Chloe says, stubbornly believing Justin despite knowing his powers.

“I hope you're right, because if you’re not, Principal Kwan is in danger.” Clark warns her, exiting the Talon and running to the hospital.

 

* * *

 

Lex walks into his office, all but sighing upon seeing his chair spun in the wrong direction.

Slowly, Lionel spins as he hears the door open, red book sitting on his lap, as he pompously quotes Walt Whitman at him, “I celebrate myself, and what I assume you shall assume.”

“For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.” Lex dutifully replies to his father.

Lionel laughs warmly, as Lex replies to him, trying to sound like a doting father, “It sounds like a description of family, doesn't it?”

Lex smiles at his father, just as saccharine as his father pretends to be, “Not ours. I didn’t take you for being one to read poetry, dad.”

Lionel smiles, closes the book, and takes off his glasses, squinting at Lex, “We're selling Cadmus Labs, Lex.”

“Our deal memo gives me fifty percent ownership with veto rights. I don't recall you asking my opinion.” Lex reminds his father, the smile slipping off his face like water.

Lionel sighs, and tsks at him as if Lex were still a child, “We only bought Cadmus to bankrupt Sir Harry. After we pumped and dumped the stock, the company's worthless. It served its purpose.”

Lex walks to a side table, and pours himself a glass of sparkling juice, taking a sip before speaking, “You wouldn’t take the time out of your schedule just to talk about Cadmus. Why are you really here?”

“I understand Pamela's back in the States, and that she paid you a visit.” Lionel stares at Lex, his daunting gaze boring into Lex.

Lex raises an eyebrow at him father, “Did you come to disinherit me?”

Lionel scoffs, but a smile stays glued to his face, “Is that what she told you?” He asks, voice full of incredulity.

“Well, Is it true?” Lex shoots back, watching Lionel’s unwavering smile.

“Your mother,” Lionel starts, looking down at his glasses, “She was an extraordinary woman.” He then looks to Lex, and shakes his head, “But her taste in the help left a lot to be desired. Pamela was a, a hanger-on. You don’t get help that you want to be like family, because then it convinces them they can have certain privileges, Lex. She convinced your mother to leave her all that stock and then she disappeared before the body could get prepped for the funeral.” 

Lionel looks at him pityingly, pretending to be wounded by Pamela’s actions,  “I know how much she meant to you. But she abandoned you, and I don't want her using emotional tyranny-”

“Yes, we can’t have someone else playing me the way you do, right Dad?” Lex quips at his father, watching for any signs of unbalance, souring when his father continues to speak past him.

”-To hit you up for money. What have I said about interrupting me, Lex? It is disrespectful and I do not have the time to deal with your arrant quips.”

_“Apologies,”_ Lex said through gritted teeth, unwilling to sit through another lecture, raising his tone to sound casual, “Now why would she hit me up for money? She's got plenty of stock.”

Lionel squints at him, at his tone, and continues on, “Probably she doesn't want to sell it to pay her medical bills.”

“What medical bills?” Lex asks, now vividly remembering Pamela’s pallor and words the times she visited him.

Lionel looks upon Lex’s face, smile turning sharp, “She didn't tell you.” Lionel pauses, shaking his glasses in hand, and laughs, “How noble of her.”

“Tell me what?”

“She's dying, Lex. Cancer.” Lionel shrugs, as if to belittle her existence, “Probably all those years sitting in the sun in San Tropez. What does she want, Lex?” Lionel asks kindly, as Lex takes a seat across from him.

“Forgiveness.”

Lionel smirks, and looks at him intently, “And what did you tell her?”

Lex freezes, and then stares at his father, feeling his claws trying to sink deeper into his soul, “To get out.”

Lionel pauses, smiles, and then laughs, shaking his head like an imbibed king. “She doesn't know you very well, does she?” Lionel gloats, looking at him with sickly pride before he walks out, leaving Lex in a suffocating silence.

 

* * *

 

A gentle knock on the door breaks Lex out of his stupor, and he rises from his seat to sit at his desk. Slowly, the door opens, and Chloe peers into the quiet office, “Can I help you, Chloe? You don’t usually come for a chat.”

“It’s-uhm- I think I may have a potential meta-human.” Chloe stutters through her sentence, passing him a docket, biting on her lip.

Carefully, Lex flips through, noting the name, age, and power of the meta, before looking at Chloe’s drawn figure, “And how did you get this information, Chloe?”

"He told me himself, in confidence.” Chloe looks at the floor miserably, “But, I decided to tell you, because something doesn't seem right about him. I know Justin, and he doesn’t seem himself. If he mutated, then it could mean it's some sort of psychosis caused by the meteor rocks."

"Has he been showing signs of aggression?" Lex questioned her, reading through the docket.

"Not in particular, but he has been showcasing other emotions, impatience, and of course, his special ability, which he as identified as Telekinesis.” Chloe wrung her hands, as Lex continued to read.

"Very well, thank you for your surveillance, Chloe. Although,” Lex said, putting the folder onto his desk and leaning on his elbows, “I hope you know I won't ask it of you, ever. It's dangerous, and I'd rather you not put yourself in harm's way."

"Right, thank you." Chloe nodded, “Did you ever get anything out of Miller’s field?”

“The readings were abnormal, but for Smallville it could’ve meant just another meteorite that the E.P.A cleaned up. I had them dig nice and deep, there was no credence to his story.”

Chloe hummed, and made to leave, with a smile made of glass. “I hoped it would’ve given us a lead. I guess it was too good to be true.”

"Perhaps,” Lex smiled wryly, “Oh, and before you go, I've come into some information, that might help us with some answers as to the meteor origin. I'll be checking it out first, but keep an eye on your phone, alright?" Lex asked, watching Chloe leave.

"Will do," Chloe smiles and hurriedly heads out of his office.

 

* * *

 

Chloe opens the scrapbook, intent on looking for answers, her stomach dropping to the floor when she does. She looks in horror at the comics labeled justice, and she wants to revolt. It was not justice, it was revenge. Chloe closes the scrap book and puts it back to how she found it, waiting patiently by the door.

“Chloe!” Justin yells, smiling when he opens the door to his bedroom and sees Chloe within. “My Mom said you were here.”

“Oh, well, I wanted to give you my answer.” Chloe smiles at him, and then lowers her gaze, “This- this isn’t easy for me, Justin.”

“Yeah,” Justin nods at her words, and closes his door, “I get that.”

Chloe fiddles with her bag, looks at the ground, and takes a deep breath, “Justin, I don’t like you. And I am so sorry, because you were a great friend. But I am in a relationship, and as great as a friend you’ve always been, I can’t forsake that relationship for you.”

“Oh,” Justin says, stepping back and falling to his bed, like she’d knocked the wind from his lungs. “I- I really thought we had something, Chloe. Was I wrong?”

Chloe opened her mouth to speak, but she found herself at a loss for words, “I’m sorry. So sorry, but yes. I found someone else, and they make me so happy. All my life I’ve felt like a mismatched sock, and now I’ve finally found my pair. I’m sorry I couldn’t be that to you, but I think you’ll be able to find it one day.” Chloe blabbers on, as Justin curls into himself.

“I’ll be going now.” She sniffles, “See you around, okay?”

 

* * *

 

Clark sits in the waiting room, standing when doctors and nurses seep out Principal Kwan’s room like a hive of smoked out bees.

“Excuse me? Is everything alright with Principal Kwan?” Clark asks one of the passing nurses who’d just exited.

“Oh. You’re one of the students. He’s fine. We’re just making sure he doesn’t fall back into a coma. He woke up last night, a miracle if you ask me, and he’s been in and out of intensive surgery ever since.”

“Will he make it?” Clark mumbles, worry curling in his gut.

“Yeah, it looks like he has a good shot.” The nurse pats his shoulder, and goes on her way, smiling at him reassuringly.

Timidly, a woman approaches him from behind and taps him on the shoulder.

“Yes?” Clark turns around, coming face to face with Teresa Kwan.

“I do not think I have the words to express how thankful I am to you, Mr. Kent. How thankful my family is to you.” Teresa says, choking up with emotion.

“Please, Mrs. Kwan, I didn’t do much-” Clark tries to downplay his involvement.

“You did _everything_. Even if it was to tell me the garage was open, you saved his life. My husband’s heart beats, because of you, and if there is ever any way to thank you, please let me know.” Teresa hugs him, as he stands flabbergasted, before she walks away towards a smaller girl, and Danny Kwan, holding them tight.

 

* * *

 

“Love of my life, what's up?” Lana picks up the phone, smiling sunnily.

“I really screwed up, Lana. I messed up so bad. Justin is involved, you guys were right.”

“What?! C-calm down, where are you?” Lana asks, hurriedly grabbing her jacket from the hook, and motioning to Jess.

“I went to the loft. I got scared, and I figured Clark would be able to do something, the great lug of muscle he is. I haven't been completely honest with you, Lana.” Chloe jabbered on a million miles a minute, “I know how Justin caused those accidents-” Chloe screams as the phone is thrown from her hands, “Lana!”

“Chloe!” Lana screams into the receiver, “Jess! Take care of everything, I’ll be right back.” Lana yells, running out of the Talon, into her car, and goes barrelling down the streets of Smallville.

“Justin?” The barn door slams behind her, and Chloe spins around, breathing ruggedly into the dusty air.

“How could you betray me? Tell others about my powers? We were friends, Chloe.” Justin cried at her, his eyes reddened from tears.

“What are you doing here? How did you know I was coming here?” Chloe asks, terror crawling up her spine.

“It wasn’t hard to guess,” Justin spat, with tears rolling down his cheeks, “Clark is all you ever talk about.”

Chloe’s breath catches, as she gets thrown across the room, screaming, and dizzily lands in a pile of hay.

“Maybe once he’s dead you’ll see who’s better for you.” Justin smiles, “But you’ll have to choose quick, Chloe, because I don’t feel very forgiving.”

Chloe gets up, breathing heavily and runs towards the rickety barn doors. Gasping for air, Justin lifts her up and holds her there as her legs kick uselessly.

Justin stares her in the face and smiles, as he drops her, boxes splintering beneath her. Chloe groans, and rubs her leg, shooting Justin a scared glance, before booking it as fast as possible away from him.

“This is one of the reasons I love you, Chloe. You're a fighter, but that won’t help you now.” Justin says, stalking her through the barn like a triumphant cat.

“Let me go! Get away from me,” Chloe yells, “I don’t like you. I don’t want you as my boyfriend.” She cries, tumbling to the ground and clutching at her leg.

“That’s what you say now,” Justin shrugs, “But what about when I have Clark here? You’ll be screaming for me, won’t you Chloe?”

Chloe stifles a cry, sobbing into her hands, and scooting towards the wall as Justin approaches her.

Barely remembering to put her car into park, Lana throws herself out of the car running towards the barn with a thick bat.

Slowly, Lana crept into the barn, lugging a baseball bat until she saw Justin looming over Chloe, taunting her as she cried.

Lifting the bat, she crept close to him and brought it down, at the same time Chloe kicked out to hit his legs, “I’m lesbian, asshole!” She yelled to his face, as Lana’s bat connected to his neck and Justin fell unconscious.

“Oh my god,” Lana swept Chloe up in a hug, holding her tightly, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” Chloe cried into Lana’s arms, as Lana splayed kisses on her face, “We- we have to call the cops.”

“Yeah, and the paramedics. You leg looks like it’s pretty bruised up.” Lana grabbed the bat, and smiled as Chloe grabbed her shoulder and they both slowly walked out into the sunlight.

 

* * *

 

Lex opens the door to the hospital room, and steps inside quietly.

Staring as Pamela lies in bed with her eyes closed, and a memory of his mother flashes in front of him, bringing a surprising wetness to his eyes. Pamela opens her eyes and stares as he approaches her, putting a first edition of Walt Whitman’s _Leaves of Grass_ on her bedside table.

“Well,” Pamela smiles tiredly, “You're the last person I expected to see.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Lex asks, trembling to look at her and not see another mother of his lost.

Pamela shook her head, “It's not your concern.”

“It's not my concern that you're dying?” He scoffs, feeling useless in the face of her illness, “I could help you, I can get you treatment.” He all but begs, trying to sound calm and rational, the way Luthors always did.

“Oh, I didn't come to you for help or pity, I came because there was nothing left to lose.” Pamela coughs, rising to sit up, before failing. “The truth is I'm ashamed.” She said, her voice shaking with emotion, “It took metastasising to give me the courage to see you again. I was too scared to even tell just once,” She sniffled, “How much you mean to me. How much I wanted to help you grow up.”

“I wish you had.” Lex takes in a deep breath, voice wavering, “I might be a better man.”

She looks to him, pride seeping into her voice. “The fact that you're here speaks volumes about the man that you are. Your mother would be proud, for all you were raised a Luthor, you have her heart.”

His voice catches in his throat, as he stares at Pamela, “I really miss her.” He admits, heart aching to remember the small smiles his mother used to give him in her infirmity.

“So do I.” She slowly holds out her hand, and Lex grasps it, a man drowning amidst a torrent of emotion.

“There’s so much good in you, Lex.” Pamela squeezes his hand, looking through him with her sunken blue eyes, half dead, but filled with love, “I only wish you weren’t so afraid of it.”

 

* * *

 

“I just spoke to Justin's parents.” Chloe smiles at Lana, leaning on the bar and squeezing her hand.

“What did they say? How's he doing?” Lana asked, cutting a pie into slices, with her unoccupied hand.

“He's in the psychiatric ward. The police might charge him with attempted murder, although they’re finicky on how to do it, but Justin has those drawings. Principal Kwan woke up, and they questioned him. I managed to get a contact to listen in and he says, he didn’t know how Justin did it, but he was there. So, are you going to say I told you so? Or do we have to wait for Clark?”

“I wish we were both wrong.” Lana says, pushing away the pie, and pulling Chloe into a hug over the bar.

“How could I just stick my head in the sand? I should’ve seen it, the way he was acting. I can spot wall of weird material from a mile away, but-”

Lana cards her fingers through Chloe’s hair, “But nothing. He was a friend to you, and you wanted to believe that he wasn’t a person capable of those horrors. We all got proven wrong, and no fault lies on any of us.”

“Right, okay.” Chloe snuggles into Lana’s shoulder.

“Are you still excited for this weekend?” Lana asks, looking down at the content smile on Chloe’s face.

“Yeah. I have a feeling it’s going to be one of the greatest dates ever.” Chloe looks up at her, green eyes shining with mirth.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Mrs. Kent, do you know where I can find Clark?” Whitney asks, knocking on the screen door.

“Whitney! He’s in the loft, hopefully doing his homework. Are you alright?” She asks, drying her hands on a dish towel.

“Yeah, I just really need to talk to him,” Whitney flashes her a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, before he runs off to the barn.

“Alright then,” Martha shrugs, a pensive look on her face, as she stares to the barn in the distance.

“Clark?” Whitney speaks, the quiet barn creaking with the wind, “You up here?”

“Whitney?” Clark shuts his book, letting it clatter to the table, “What’s wrong?” He asks, looking at his bloodshot eyes.

“It’s my dad.” Whitney gravels, falling into Clark’s arms, “He’s gone. My dad, he’s gone.” Whitney sobs, and Clark holds him close, the old ache of losing a father flaring to life.

 

* * *

 

The day of George Fordmans’ funeral, the rain is relentless, soaking people to the bone, as if their loss wasn’t enough to drown them in sorrow.

Holding to Whitney’s side, Clark and Lana console him as best they can before he pulls away, to walk beside his mother, the grief evident on their faces.

Clark holds Lana and Chloe close, as they shiver, and huddle underneath an umbrella, the downcast skies, only pouring more rain to the ground. Gently, he kisses their cheeks as his mother and father pull him away, holding him close, and they load up into the truck, soaked and somber.

When they return to the farm, Clark peels the clothes from his skin, and dries his hair, falling to bed with grief gnawing at his soul and the screams of a hundred thousand prayers.

 

* * *

 

"H’ronmeer, hear me, and aid me in my times of trial. I pray for strength, let me not fail now. " J'onn J'onzz speaks into the sulfurous air, repeating his words countless times over. He tries desperately to hold back a rain of fire from coming down atop the JL headquarters. The people crowd below him, the huddled weary masses, tired of running, of fighting, of war, and blood. They are tired, and J’onn feels their empty, cragged hearts.

Taking a choking breath, J’onn continues to fight, but gradually he wavers. The hope and optimism he projects to the crowd dissipates, leaving them devoid of anything but terror.

“H’ronmeer,” J’onn speaks, voice low and gasping, as ash begins to rain from the skies, “I lack the strength to continue.” He sobs desperate for help, but knows no one will come, “H’ronmeer, I shall meet you, yet.”

Slowly but surely, the heart and soul of the JLA bows to the relentless torrent of fire, leaving nothing but a smoking crater where Justice had once stood to mock those of villainy.

Hidden in the inky darkness of space, Clark hides, emotionless as the Earth continues to fall into disarray, his cape unmoving in the vacuum of space. The symbol of the house of El, taunts him with his own inaction. Taunts him with his broken promises of hope, and life, of duty and responsibility.

The people plead for a savior, countless voices, countless languages, and sorrows, screaming into the atmosphere, choking on their prayers.

But Clark is not their savior, as he flies into the atmosphere, and settles upon their gazes.

He is their death.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lana's [outfit](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/0d/42/25/0d4225f0d63b7c626595410c92b9aebb.jpg) would be exactly like this except a pure black pencil skirt. Lana's aiming to knock Chloe's socks off, after all. ~~And maybe Clark has good taste, he just doesn't use it often.~~
> 
> Come check me out on [Tumblr](http://just-kent-ing-around.tumblr.com/) for updates, progress reports, and snippets for future projects.  
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!


	17. Quixotic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m just out of sorts, I guess. I had this really intense dream that Clark got attacked outside of the hospital.” She sighs, dourly watching the television.
> 
> “Clark?” Whitney raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “It took me and a couple of other friends to tie him up as scarecrow. There’s no way someone managed to get the drop on him. Trust me he’s 165 pounds of heavy muscle.”
> 
> Lana shakes her head, and tries to smile, “You’re right. I don’t know why I’m so worried. It’s just... it felt so real."
> 
> “Why are you doing this to me?” Clark gasps for breath, his arms straining against metal shackles as he attempts to break free. The dim lighting blurring his vision of the figure standing before him.
> 
> “I’ve been watching you.” The figure circles, watching him eagerly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaah, a wild late chapter. I was supposed to do a double update, but then I got involved in a writing week, so I'll be doing regular chaps instead. I've made Martha cry and I feel like a villain. ~~Sung to the tune of Man! I feel like a woman...~~
> 
> But all that is well, ends well! I hope this chapter sufficiently knocks several of you out, and I know next chapter will!  
>  ~~I might take a little hiatus to plot out Season 2, but I'm not entirely sure because I really do like updating weekly.~~
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and like it enough to leave a comment!!

“Love is pain,

And pain;

It begets the demons of the soul.”

 

* * *

 

Lana smiles as she and Chloe race further into a sunny green pasture, the sun warming their skin even with the cool winds. She laughs as Chloe rides in reverse, and wags her eyebrows playfully, “You really aren’t getting better at this, Chloe.” She notes, snickering as the horse shakes its’ mane.

“I’m a Metropolis born city girl who lives and breathes journalism! I have never needed to ride a horse, _ever._ Look at him looking at _me_ with those beady, sad, eyes and all I want to do is take the rein off and set him free.”

Lana fondly shakes her head, “He’s a happy stable horse, Chloe. Don’t give into wild impulses. Twelve year old me would know, trust me. Let’s get going, we should really stop torturing your poor horse. He’ll learn bad riding habits.”

Chloe sputtered and scoffed, gently turning her horse around with great care, “Horses are nice, okay? Just don’t let me have control of the reins or he’ll end up going in circles again. I can’t wait for the trip to Metropolis, what do you think I’ll do as an intern?”

“Deliver coffee, sort papers, make dubious connections,” Lana lists off with her fingers, giggling at Chloe’s put upon expression.

“I’m joking. I’m sure you’ll be in the thick of it as soon as you get there,” Lana flipped her hair, the sunlight streaming through her brown locks. Chloe watched, dry mouthed and awestruck, as Lana’s hair flowed in the wind,  “Are you going to the Spring Formal, or is it too mainstream?” Lana teases, as they slowly make their way to a rickety fence.

The tips of Chloe’s ears begin to turn red, as she opens her mouth to speak, “Uhm, well...it depends. Would you like to go with me? Because I was just thinking of going stag. Since...I’m not sure we could go together.” She mumbled in a small voice.

“Hmm, considering Smallville can have a small town attitude, and I don’t know if I’m ready to ...come out, just yet, stag it is then.” Lana blushes, biting her lip nervously. “We’ll have to pretend to have dates that never show, and dance the night away together.” She jokes, dismounting her horse and tying it to the fence. Stretching her calves Lana sighs, as Chloe walks up to her and hugs her from behind, planting a small kiss on her ear.

“Are you trying to squeeze me to death?” Lana jokes, as Chloe lazily continues to hug her.

“Nope, but hugs are good for the soul, just like chicken soup.” Chloe snuggles into Lana’s shoulder, jumping when a loud explosion goes off in the distance. Breaking away from Lana, Chloe snags her camera from the saddle bag, running head first towards the plume of smoke in the sky.

“Chloe!” Lana yells, shaking her head and running after her, stopping when she sees a red pipe shaking ominously.

“Chloe! The pipe!” Lana screams, waving her hands wildly. For the briefest second, Chloe turns to see Lana, before nodding and running off towards the men.

“Get out of here! Run! Look at the pipe, it’s going to explode!” Chloe yells, desperately trying to drag them away, and spinning wildly when she notices Lana isn’t behind her.

“Lana?!” Chloe screams, scrambling back to the dirt when the pipe explodes and it rings loudly in her ears. Coughing as dirt flooded the air, and dazed, Chloe clambers to her feet. She screams when she sees Lana on the ground, un-moving, and dusty with soil. Running to her, she drops to the ground, gently holding an unconscious Lana, begging for the cops to call an ambulance.

 

* * *

 

Clark quietly enters Lana’s hospital room, hugging Chloe when she stands to greet him at Lana’s bedside.

“I came as quick as I could. Is she going to be alright?” He asks, as Chloe firmly plants herself to the chair.

“The doctor said she should be fine, since the hit didn’t look too bad. They’re just waiting for her to wake up.” Chloe says, clutching Lana’s hand.

“How are you holding up?” Clark looks at Chloe’s tear stained face, “Did you get checked out?”

“I’m fine. Not a hair on my head got hurt. I was terrified.” Chloe looks at Clark with wide green eyes, “I am terrified. I should’ve checked to see if she was behind me.” Chloe muttered, sniffling.

“It’s not your fault, Chloe. Things just happened too quickly. I thought you'd be halfway to Metropolis by now. Didn’t you say you’d head out early this morning?”

Chloe shook her head, eyes tearing up, “I wanted to spend some more time with her before I left. I thought a horse riding date would let her see my riding prowess, luckily, I didn’t ride in a circle.” She laughs wetly, blowing her nose into a tissue, “It’s just a summer internship. I can always reschedule.”

Clark frowns slightly, and sighs, “You've been waiting for that interview at the Planet for weeks. Hell, you even staked out in the lobby for days, just waiting to catch one of the higher ups and show them your resume. Me and all of Smallville should know, Lana wouldn’t stop being proud and telling everyone who dropped by the Talon. I swear she was so close commissioning someone for a poster. Or yelling it off of that windmill in Chandler’s Field.”

Chloe snorts, and shakes her head, looking at Lana lovingly, “Lana needs me right now, Clark.” She strokes her hand gently, “I love my career, but it can wait a week or two if need be. Besides, I’m betting as soon as she wakes up she’ll be telling me to leave. I just don’t want her to wake up alone.”

“I bet she will. Do you want me to take over the Torch for you?” Clark asks, kissing her cheek as Whitney steps into the room.

“That would be great. I don’t think I could juggle the Torch and a summer internship.” Chloe smiles at him, and gives him a quick hug.

“Hey. How are you doing?” Clark waves at Whitney, looking at his drawn face.

“How is she? Have the doctors said anything?” Whitney asks, at Chloe’s side in an instant, smiling at Clark, before making a so-so gesture to him.

“The doctors say she’s fine. The impact wasn’t too hard on her, but they’re waiting until she wakes up to make a call on whether she can leave or not.”

“Good. God, I was so worried when that call came.” Whitney ran a hand through his hair, and sat on the other side of the bed, sharing a worried glance with Chloe.

“I better get going now. I’ve got our principal to visit too, and then I’ve got to head home.” Clark hugs Chloe and Whitney goodbye, and briskly walks out of the hospital room, towards the long term care unit.

He knocks on the door, and waits until he hears a voice telling him to enter. He swings the door open, and closes it behind him quietly, smiling nervously.

“Principal Kwan,” He waves, and takes a seat at his bedside, “Your wife said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes,” James sits up in his bed slowly, smiling brightly at Clark, “Do you know the first thing I saw when I woke up?”

Clark blinks at the question, curious to his thoughts, “No. What did you see?”

“My family. My wife, son, and daughter, all crying, but so happy to see me alive.” James smiles wider, tears building up in his eyes, “I have you to thank for that.”

Clark shakes his head, trying to push his survival on luck, “I didn’t-”

“Please, Mr. Kent. I know you may think you did nothing, but I assure you that was not the case. You saved my life, because of a small infinitesimally kind act of telling someone to close their garage. I am grateful to you. My whole family is thankful, and while I may not be able to work for quite a while, I am glad I am alive to do so.”

Clark rubs his neck, a small flush crawling up his face, “Well, as long as you’re alive you can get better. I’m sincerely happy you’re okay, Principal Kwan. Are they going to find a replacement, or is the staff going to make do?” Clark asks, curious as to what the school committee was planning.

“The superintendent assured me that there’s already a search to find a suitable replacement. It’ll be a bit of shared principal role. I’ll have a long physical recovery ahead, at the very least for my lower body. However, my arms work just fine. I’ll be in charge of administration, while the future hire will be a physical presence at school. I have to say I’m rather relieved I still have a job. I wouldn’t want to retire so early.” James smiles, gesturing to a pile of paperwork.

“I’m sure the whole school will be happy to know you’re alright, Principal Kwan. Maybe Chloe will even write an article in the Torch about you, just be careful or she’ll bury you in questions. I’ve got to get going, it was good to see you.” Clark smiles, happy to see the once dead man alive.

“Yes, goodbye Mr. Kent, and once again, thank you.” James shakes his hand, and lays back to rest, watching Clark leave.

Lana groans, as fluorescent light attacks her, as she cracks her eyes open. Quickly, she turns shoving her head under a pillow.

“Lana? You’re finally up! Whitney, can you go get the doctor?” Chloe jumps from her seat, hesitantly touching Lana’s shoulders, and prodding her them.

Whitney nods, before taking off out of the room and down the hallway, calling out for a doctor.

“Lana? Are you okay? Lana?” Chloe gently pokes at her shoulders more, her lips forming a worried line as Lana groans.

“Can you turn down the lights? I have a headache.” Lana mutters, laying on her side, and peeking out from under the pillow.

“Sorry about the light,” A woman comes bustling through the door, and gently turns the light down, “How are you feeling Ms. Lang?”

“Like someone threw me across a field,” Lana croaks, shoving her pillow behind her head and looking up to Doctor Harden smiling face.

“Well, a headache isn’t uncommon, but let me have a look at your eyes, dear. And if you’re alright then you can get out of here, alright?” Dr. Harden, reassures Lana, Chloe, and Whitney, before flashing a light in Lana’s eyes.

“Okay,” Dr. Harden scribbles on a clipboard, and nods, “You’re looking good, and while I would recommend you stay overnight for observation, I understand you youngsters don’t like the hospital much.” Dr. Harden smiles brightly at them all before heading out the door, “Don’t forget to sign out at the desk, please.”

“Yes! I just woke up and gained freedom.” Lana cheers, using Chloe to boost herself out of bed, before a vision assaults her.

Lana watches Clark open his truck, whistling a cheery tune, before crumpling to the floor in pain. Clark looks up, with his veins bulging, right at her. She can see the fear, yet there is something ominous lurking in his eyes, despite how he trembles. He sags to the floor as something sharp and green penetrates his skin, going limp and still. Her vision goes black, and Lana nearly falls to the floor, before shaking her head, “Sorry, I got a real weird sort of vertigo.”

“It’s alright, are you sure you don’t want to lay down again?” Whitney asks, hovering nearby, as Chloe helps Lana stand.

“No,” Lana smiles at him, grabbing Chloe’s shoulder firmly, “I’ll be fine, I feel like I could use some food and a really long nap.”

“Well, lets hit up a diner. On me, you too, Whitney. We all could use some nice, hot chow.” Chloe chirps, dragging Whitney along as Lana begins to steady herself.

“Can we drop by my house so I can get a change of clothes first?” Lana looks down to her dirt stained shirt and laughs, “I don’t think any diner would let me in if I showed up looking like this.”

“Then let’s get going!” Chloe beams, tucking Lana’s hair behind her ear, “Clothes, food, and then a giant nap. Honestly, life goals right there.” Chloe all but dances out of the hospital room, Whitney and Lana trailing happily after her.

 

* * *

 

Jonathan skillfully removes the pipe from under the sink, and stands up. He places it on the counter and wiping his hands, tiredly scrubbing the grease from his hands.

“Yes, I’ll let you know if we’re available. Bye.” Martha hangs up the phone, and turns to Jonathan, “They’re looking for chaperones for the spring formal. Do you think Clark is gonna go?”

“I don’t know,” Jonathan shakes his head, and shrugs, “He hasn’t even mentioned it. And besides, who would he ask? The one person he would isn’t exactly high school age.”

“I know.” Martha sighs, leaning on the counter, “But I want him to enjoy high school. Despite all the crazy meteor people, and the superpowers in place of puberty...I want him to have a relatively normal experience. Spring formals are part of that. It’s not like when we were kids, Jonathan. I heard it’s perfectly normal for kids to go stag these days.”

“That it is,” Lex smiles as he knocks on the screen door. “Actually, I think it might be more popular to go stag than it is to go with someone. The chances of hooking up with someone are through the roof, especially if someone spikes the punch. At least, that was my high school experience.”

“Hi, Lex. When did you get here?” Martha smiles, waving him in, “Come on in. How’s work treating you?”

“Just now, Martha. And work is going well enough. Not that it’ll stop my father from complaining about my productivity, but there’s little I can do in that regard. I came by to talk to the both of you, if you have some time that is?” Lex asks, walking to the dining table.

“All the time in the world, Lex. It’s nice to have you drop by, what can we help you with?” Jonathan folds Lex into a quick hug, as Martha pecks his cheeks. They all ignore the flush crawling up his neck and take seats at the table.

“Actually, it’s how I can help _you_. The paperwork on the chemical spill finally came through.”

Jonathan and Martha smile at him and then hold hands, “I thought I’d live to be eighty before I saw another hint of all that paperwork.” Jonathan pretends to complain, and Lex chuckles as Martha smacks his shoulder.

“Since the dumping wasn't done by an actual LuthorCorp employee, it did require jumping through some corporate hoops. I know I can’t replace Bessie-Mae, but it’ll give Betty-Mae a real nice herd. And hopefully it’ll let you get better grazing land.” Lex says, and passes them an envelope from his jacket.

“Thank you, Lex,” Martha takes the envelope, and opens it, showing it to Jonathan in surprise, “I hope we're not getting special treatment because of your friendship with Clark. Even if we consider you family, we don’t want special treatment, sweetheart.”

“No special treatment, Martha. It’s what you deserve, considering none of what happened was your fault. Just compensation, if you will.” Lex smiles at them, and then looks to the stairs, “Is Clark awake yet?” He asks, eyes flickering to the late morning sun.

“He’s probably at school by now. With Chloe going to Metropolis for that internship of hers, he’s taking over the Torch for her. I could call him for you?” Martha asks, as Jonathan carefully places the check into her purse.

“No, I’ll be fine. I just wanted to check up on him, but it seems like we’ll both be having rather busy weekdays. I’ll see you later, Martha, Jonathan.” Lex says goodbye, excusing himself from the Kent farm, and they gratefully hug him goodbye.

 

* * *

 

Lana sits on the couch, her head on Whitney’s lap as he strokes her hair. “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet since yesterday.” He remarks, as the television plays an old _Friends_ re-run.

“I’m just out of sorts, I guess. I had this really intense dream that Clark got attacked outside of the hospital.” She sighs, dourly watching the television.

“Clark?” Whitney raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “It took me and a couple of other friends to tie him up as scarecrow. There’s no way someone managed to get the drop on him. Trust me he’s 165 pounds of heavy muscle.”

Lana shakes her head, and tries to smile, “You’re right. I don’t know why I’m so worried. It’s just... it felt so real. Like I was looking through someone else’s eyes. Maybe it a symbolic dream? People have those, right?”

“Oh?” Whitney laughs, and leans over Lana, “What sort of symbol is Clark?”

“I don’t know!” Lana huffs, poking Whitney’s stomach. “I just feel like he’s alone. And he _shouldn’t_ be alone. Do you ever get the feeling that there’s a lot he’s not telling us?”

“Yeah. All the time, but some people are like that, Lana. They’re the friendliest people you’d ever meet, but hell if you actually know anything about them.”

“But we’re his friends. I know we don’t know _everything_ about each other, and I wouldn’t expect to. But I wish he’d let us shoulder some of his burdens, you know? Sometimes it’s like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, and if he stops, if he lets himself _breathe_ , everything will fall apart.”

“Rather maudlin for you Lana, but I can see it. Clark is a bit of a solitary type.” Whitney agrees, flipping through several channels, “There’s not much I can do about it though. Clark is more closed up than Fort Knox, and I’m beginning to think he’s like that even with Luthor, for all he jabbers on about him.”

“Maybe.” Lana grumbles, shifting her attention to the television.

"It’s almost like they’re a match made in heaven with how little we know about both of them. Do you want me to call him?" Whitney offers, looking at the distant expression on her face.

"No, I'm pretty sure it's my brain being weird. That explosion really took it out of me. I don’t want to bother him when it’s nothing,” Lana rubs her temple, “He's probably really busy with the Torch. And I kind of feel bad I can't help." She gripes, sulking on Whitney’s lap.

"Well, don't look at me. I wouldn't know the first thing about editing a newspaper. I’ll go see him after school hours. I don’t want him biting my head off for interrupting all the work he’s probably swamped in. Don’t worry, alright?” Whitney reassured her, stroking her hair more insistently.

Lana turns her head to smile at him, “Alright.”

 

* * *

 

Lex carefully parks his Porsche next to a fallen tree, walking briskly around Miller’s bend. He stops before a large hole in the ground, and peers into the sunlit cave, noting the bundle of rope staked at its’ opening.

“Let’s hope this is something spectacular, Clark.” Lex grumbles as he shakes off his jacket, throwing it on a tree, before rolling up his sleeves, readying himself to climb down.

Lex stops short before the cave wall, tracing the patterns on it before he pulls open his phone and looks through his gallery for the incriminating photo. Carefully he draws up the photo next to the wall.

Lex inhales sharply, “They’re the same.” He swallows, staring at the strange symbols, “What do they mean? And why do you have them hidden, Clark?” He ponders, as he snaps photos, filling his phone to the brim with the strange painted pictures.

Brushing his fingers against the octagonal opening, Lex thinks back to the strange disc hiding in Clark’s book. Shaking his head, he dials Dr. Hamilton, “I found a possible connection, but it’ll be sometime before I have you check any of this out. I have an experiment to do first.”

“Of course, I look forward to your...discovery.” Dr. Hamilton replies, an eager tone to his voice.

Lex snaps his phone shut, takes in the view of the cave, and starts making more calls.

 

* * *

 

“Why are you doing this to me?” Clark gasps for breath, his arms straining against metal shackles as he attempts to break free. The dim lighting blurring his vision of the figure standing before him.

“I’ve been watching you.” The figure says, circling him proudly, “Tracking you as you created more and more creatures like you. The government takes away most of them, some place I don’t have the clearance for.” He shrugs, the red eyes of his mask, glowing. “But _you_ -” Clark shivers, remembering a hero syndromic Watts. Watts growls at him, “-You hide in plain sight, and no one can see you, the perfect charade.”

Watts hides behind an eerie gas mask, his glowing red eyes following every breath Clark takes.

“You’re allergic to the meteor rock, I admit, it took me awhile to figure that one out. But I learned, I watched, and I took my notes.”

“T-torturing me won’t get you anywhere or anything.” Clark struggles to sit up, curling into a ball as Watts kicks more Kryptonite to his head.

“Did you think no one would notice all the disappearing people? The accounts of a teenage boy being seen over and over _and over_ ? Somehow you connected to all the strange things happening in Smallville, and when I had that thought...I couldn’t let it go. The people of Smallville think you’re so good. So _human_.” Watts takes a piece of Kryptonite and slices Clark’s cheek with it, and Clark whimpers, too weak to turn away. “But they couldn’t be more wrong. You’ve caused a lot of people hurt, Clark Kent. Turning people into psychotic monsters with inhuman powers.”

“I didn’t do _anything_ .” Clark pleads, taking a ragged breath. “My name is Clark Kent, I go to Smallville High, and my parents adopted me the day of the meteor shower. So what if I’m allergic to meteor rock? I’m- I’m normal. I swear. _I swear._ ” He slurs his words, barely having the strength to raise his head and look at piercing red eyes.

“Yes. I know all of that. I guess your parents don’t know they adopted a monster-”

“I’m not a _monster_!” Clark’s strength surges up, and his restraints shatter. “I’m not a monster, Dick- I’m doing what’s right. Believe me, please. Bruce doesn’t- Please, Dick-” Clark begs the ghosts that haunt him, their shadowy figures spitting curses from their mouths.

Watts shoves a piece of Kryptonite into his mouth, and Clark tearfully gags around it, the violent, needling pain making him woozy. He stumbles to the floor, whimpering as Watts kicks up small green rocks.

“You are a monster. A thing wearing human skin. _I’m_ the hero that’s going to save this whole town. I’ll make you tell me everything. Every little dirty thing you’ve done and all the people you’ve infected. When I’m done with you, there’ll be a line out of this place, aching to make you bleed. And I won’t deny them the chance to make you wish you’d never come here. Now, who's Dick? Bruce? Are they your allies? Victims? Tell me the truth." Watts snarled.

 

* * *

 

A plane turbulently rises to the skies, a red dusk and strong winds, shaking it fiercely.

Dick manages to put the plane on autopilot, stumbling out of the cockpit, using the walls to help him walk, as his wounds oozed blood.

“Clark-” Dick retches, his vomit hitting the floor with a wet slap. The sound echoes in the empty cabin of the plane. He looks at the ashes falling from the skies, and shudders, the tiny view from the window the very picture of Hell.

“Clark, please. We need you.” He cries out, the tears and snot pouring from his face, as he falls to the floor, too tired and desolate to care about the wounds littering his body.

“Gotham- It’s _gone_ . It’s gone. Cass, Damien, and Duke made it out, but it’s gone. Alfred-” He dry heaves, his body shaking from the shock, “Alfred didn’t know. I didn’t have the time to tell him. He didn’t make it. Gotham is _nothing_ , just ashes and fire.”

Dick lays wasted on the floor, desperate pleas slipping out of his mouth. “I don’t know why you abandoned us. You promised you wouldn’t, you promised you’d always be there for me. You just left. You left when everything was going to hell. We need you, Uncle Clark.” Dick coughed, cradling his fractured hand to his chest.

“ _I need you._ ”

 

* * *

 

“Can I help you with anything? And how did you get my number? I seriously didn’t expect you of all people to call.” Chloe asked, sorting through the Planet’s paperwork like a pro.

“Uhm, just a quick question. Has Clark called you at all?” Whitney spoke into his phone, watching as Lana talked with Martha, trying not to see worried.

“Nope.” Chloe popped the P, holding her phone with her shoulder.

“He didn’t say if he was going anywhere? Seeing someone?” Whitney questioned insistently, holding the phone close to his ear.

“No, why? What’s going on, Whitney?” Chloe stopped pouring over her paperwork, instead listening to Whitney’s breathing.

“I haven’t heard from him since he left the hospital last night-”

“He’s probably busy with the Torch. I leave for a day and everything falls to pieces. They really need to update the technology we have access to, it’s a miracle I can pull off the things I do-.”

“No, that’s not it. I dropped by the Torch, I asked around, but no one has seen Clark. We’re at the farm, but his mom and dad thought he was at the Torch. Lana’s trying to talk to them right now and not sound crazy. I doubt they actually believe her. I am _seriously_ one step away from _knocking_ on Lex Luthor’s door. And, god help me, I really don’t want to talk to a rich asshole today, Chloe.”

“Okay. Now that is weird, have you told anyone? Maybe he just decided to disappear and mysteriously comeback like he always does?” Chloe asked, tapping her pen on the desk.

“No, not yet. I want to cover all my bases and make sure I’m not working everyone up over nothing. I don’t want to worry Lana with all the weird dreams, visions, whatever she’s been having. I don’t want her to panic-”

“Weird dreams?” Chloe bit her lip.

“Earlier today she told me she had a dream or something, about Clark being attacked outside of the hospital. And call me crazy, but since then I don’t think anyone has seen him.” Whitney bounced his leg, his worry rising with every minute.

“Right. Missing Clark, uhm, I’ll see if I can reach Lex Luthor, because trust me, I think he’d put you on hold...deliberately. I’ll call-”

Whitney nearly dropped the phone as Lana’s screams rang out. “Lana?” He raised his head, “I’ve got to go, something’s wrong with Lana-”

“Whitney?! What do you mean there’s something wrong with Lana? Why was she screaming? Hello?” Chloe nearly shook the desk in frustration, slamming her phone shut and taking a deep breath, before it began to ring again.

 

* * *

 

Whitney let his phone clatter to the floor and raced inside of the Kents’ home. “Lana! What’s wrong with her?” Whitney ran over to her, holding her close as she incoherently tried to speak, and Martha tried to calm her.

“No. No. No. We have to help him, Whitney-”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asked, wincing as she clawed at his hands, and Martha looked towards Jonathan helplessly.

“Clark he’s in danger- I don’t know what’s happening to him, but he’s in so much pain. I can see it in him. We have to help, we have to find him!”

“Calm down, Lana. It’s okay,” He tried to reassure her, “We’ll find him. We’ll call the cops. Alright, just take deep breaths. Can you see where he is?”

“No,” Lana cried and shook her head, “It’s too dark, but I think there’s shackles holding him in place. I think there’s blood, but it’s so dark. I can’t- I can’t make it out.” Martha and Jonathan traded looks of horror, and Whitney turned stone faced.

“Come on, let’s get up. You’re okay, we just have to look for him.” Whitney helped Lana up, shouldering her weight easily, as she stumbled to the couch, her vision blurred by tears and horror.

Martha shook, holding the phone tightly, “I-I’ll call the cops.” She said hoarsely, trying to blink away the tears as Jonathan shook.

 

* * *

 

“Chloe. I’m sorry to interrupt your summer internship, but this place I found,” Lex sighed, touching the walls for what seemed the millionth time, “I think it could hold a lot of answers. And even more questions.”

“Chloe?” Lex repeated, “Are you there?” He asked, looking at his phone in dismay.

“I’m- I just had a phone call with Whitney, and something’s wrong with Lana- She was screaming.” Chloe almost sobbed into the phone.

“What? Have you called the police?” The look of curiosity slipping off of his face, “Are you okay, Chloe? Do you want me to call back later?”

“No, please, no. Do you know where Clark is?”

“Clark?” Lex’s brows furrowed, and he pursed his lips, “He’s been at the Torch all morning. I dropped by the farm, but Martha and Jonathan said he must’ve decided to get an early start on taking over for you.”

“No, god. You have to look for him. I don’t know what’s going on over there- but Whitney has been looking for him all day. He said he hasn’t been by the Torch, and that Martha and Jonathan haven’t seen him, and Lana’s been having strange vision dreams-” Chloe rambled, neigh on hysterical.

“Visions?” Lex swallowed thickly, “Has she been in contact with any meteor rocks?”

“I don’t know.” Chloe shook her head, “She was in the accident, but I don’t know. Whitney said she’d had a vision about him being attacked outside of the hospital. No one has seen him since, Lex. I want this all to be some bad dream, but knowing us, knowing Smallville and the things we’ve been researching...I don’t think it is.” Chloe clung to her phone, grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair, and packing up her desk. “I don’t know how soon I can get back to Smallville, but I’m going. Internship be damned.”

“It looks like discovery will have to wait.” Lex tried to joke, fear gripping him tightly, “Did Mr. Fordman tell you where he was? Where Lana was?” Lex asked, looking at the rope with a burning stare.

“The Kent Farm. I think Lana wanted to talk to his parents- Tell them I’m coming, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Chloe hung up abruptly, running out of the Planet and casting her regrets aside and desperately hoping that Lana and Clark were alright.

 

* * *

 

Whitney sat outside of the Kent farm, holding his head in his hands, as he watched Lana be questioned over and over through the porch windows. Head snapping up, he balked as a Porsche came rearing down the dirt road, practically burning its’ tires as it parked. He sighed as Lex Luthor stepped out, his frozen blue eyes burning into his head.

“Have you seen Clark?”

“No.” Whitney winced as the fury in Luthor’s eyes burned hotter, “And what about Lana?”

“In dreams, visions, whatever they are. I don’t know, but the police are still questioning her.” Whitney gripped the railing tight, looking unhappily to Lana surrounded by police, Martha and Jonathan fretting.

Lex marched up to the door, and swung it open, “I think it’ll be enough questions for today, officers. The least you could do is look into it, even if you have trouble believing what she’s saying, no?”

Lana looked to him and a look of relief crossed her face. “I promise we’ll take this seriously and look into it.” Officer Watts smiled at him, even as his partner held a look of annoyance. They nodded, ready to leave when the phone rang and Jonathan raced to pick it up.

“Hello? What did you find? Please-” Jonathan stopped talking, paling by the minute and then hung the phone up, reaching for comfort in Martha.

“They found the truck. Out in the woods, tires slashed, abandoned. My god, oh my god. He never made it home.” Jonathan hunched over into Martha as they clung together.

Lex watched their crying faces, and the darkness settled in his gut. He knew it like the immensity of being born a Luthor; he would do anything to bring Clark home safe and sound.

 

* * *

 

“Why am I not enough, Clark? Why are you so insistent on loving a dead man?” Bruce asked, trying to hold himself high, even if all he wanted to do was fall apart.

“Why did you use me? My family, my life, our lives are _ruined_. Why did you use me, Clark?” Bruce yelled now, his usually blank face, poignant with betrayal.

“I loved you and you knew it. I trusted you, you were my brother!” Bruce trembled with sorrow, clutching the table like a lifeline, as he struggled to stand with his wounds.

“You killed her. You killed Diana,” Bruce was crying now, the scar of her death still fresh. “You killed her and mourned with the rest of us. Why? Why won’t you answer me?” Bruce screamed, Clark blurring through his unfettered tears.

“What would you want me to say?” Clark stepped up to him, and Bruce struggled not to step back at the uncaring look on his face.

“That I’m sorry? That I regret it? I mourned Diana, even if she did die at my hands, but I’m not foolish enough to let my tears end my mission. She was angry at me when she died, but I like to think she understood too. She believed in love and so do I.”

“How could you? How could you twist her words, and use them to justify the things you’ve done? You can’t be him.” Bruce tried to reason, skittering away from Clark, “You can’t be him. Clark wouldn’t do this. He would never kill, you- You’re not, Clark.”

Bruce kept repeating his words, hoping they would come true. A small part of him knew it was stupid to hope.

“I’m so sorry, Bruce.” Clark tried not to sound remorseful, staring at the pasty wan of Bruce’s skin, “I’m so sorry, but I am.”

 

* * *

 

“Martha, Jonathan, I’ll do whatever I can.” Lex gently held Martha as she pulled him in for a hug, Jonathan not far behind in wrapping his arms around the two of them.

“Thank you,” Martha sniffled, “God, I’m so scared. What do we do? What can we do?” Martha sobbed into his chest. Jonathan remained silent, and Lex could feel the anxiety dripping off of him.

“Martha, honey..” Jonathan to find some semblance of reassurance, but could only fall back into silence.

“The police searched what they could of the woods before night hit. There’ll be a search party first thing tomorrow morning. We’ll find him, Martha.” Lex tried to console her, the silence of the room only making her terror more apparent.

“You tell your child that they should never have to worry about the monsters under their bed.” Martha says, her eyes strangely blank, “That those monsters aren’t real. When he was five, I had to explain to him why he couldn’t play too much with the other kids. I told him, if he did, other people, _bad_ people would come for him. And those bad people...it wouldn’t matter to them how much he cried. Or begged. I told him that his nightmares weren’t just monsters under the bed, but real in a way no little boy’s should be.”

“If-If someone has him. If they know what he can do...they’ll do everything in their power to make sure he’s never a danger to society. Even if it means killing him. Even if all his life he’s been a good boy, trying to be normal. Just because- just because he’s _different_.”

 _“ My boy_ _,”_ Martha wept, her entire body shaking, “My boy, what are they doing to you? How am I supposed to protect you?” Jonathan muffled his sob, breaking at Martha’s words, holding her tight enough to bruise.

Lex ran from the room, towards the screen door and out into the freezing air. Outside, somewhere the dizzying emotions wouldn’t get to him, where he could pretend Clark would suddenly appear the way he always did - and everything would be alright.

“Lana.” Lex stops for a breath, looking at her pallid features.

“Lex.” Lana mumbles, staring blankly to the sky, sat on the flooring of the porch.

“Are you alright?” Lex asks cautiously, hoping she wouldn’t burst into tears too.

“I’ve been better. I’m trying to focus and concentrate...I don’t know what triggers it.” Lana sighs, rubbing her eyes despondently. “I can’t help. I have these visions, but I can’t help. He’s being chained and there’s nothing I can do.”

“There’s not a lot anyone of us can do, Lana. And trust me, Lana, it physically hurts me to say that. Where’s Fordman?” Lex squats next to her, looking dignified yet unsettled.

“I don’t know. He said he had a hunch, and that he was going to go check it out-” Lana stood abruptly as a car came hurtling down the road, screeching and braking within seconds. Falling out of her car, Chloe ran to them, a look of relief pasted on her face.

“Lana!” Chloe threw herself into Lana’s arms, out of breath but happy. “Oh sweet merciful printing press, you’re okay.”

Lana held Chloe tighter, sinking into her embrace. “God, I missed you and it’s only been a day.”

“One heck of a day,” Chloe kissed Lana’s cheek, pausing when she saw Lex deliberately looking away.

“Where’s Clark?”Chloe asked, even as her gut told her she wouldn’t like the answer.

“Still missing.” Lex crossed his arms, “It’s going to be a long night, waiting for answers.”

“He’ll be alright,” Chloe said, looking to the dark and quiet Kent house, “He has to be.”

 

* * *

 

Whitney burst through the screen door to the Kent farm, the full moon rising above, as the corn whistled with the wind. “I think I figured out how Lana got her visions. The accident, when the explosion occured,- I think it connected her to someone at the accident.” Whitney rambled, taking out several papers, and shoving them onto the table, “There was a syndrome back in the Blitz, where people would feel psychically connected to others. I saw the the accident site this morning, there were meteor shards all over it. I sounds like a stretch-”

“But not as bad as some of the things I’ve heard. I’ll believe it,” Chloe muttered, drinking a tall mug of coffee, sitting at the couch with a sleeping Lana in her lap.

“Who got to Lana first?” Whitney asked, looking towards Chloe.

“Me. And two other deputies, Vertigo and Watts. You think one of them kidnapped, Clark? They would literally have no reason!” She whispered, quieting her voice for Lana.

“No reason that we can see, at least. After all, who would suspect a cop?” Lex frowned, grabbing his keys. “You all stay here, I’ll go have a talk with-”

“No. We’re all going, _together_ . This guy, if he has kidnapped Clark for whatever lunatic reason, was strong enough to _drop_ Clark. No offense Luthor, but I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t go to a gunfight with a sword.” Whitney ground his teeth, staring down Lex Luthor.

“I don’t only have a sword, Mr. Fordman. That would be incredibly shortsighted of me. And regardless of my physical stature, I can _fight_.” Lex drew himself up to Whitney, before Chloe threw pillows at them.

“Would you stop the pissing contest on who’s Clark’s best friend, or who’s gonna be the hero? We’ll all go. They should still be doing their shifts, and with the rest of the cops there, I doubt he’ll make a scene...even if we don’t have any circumstantial evidence.”

“If you need a reason to hold him, leave it to me. Right now, they’re the only leads we have, we need to get going.” Lex stepped away from Whitney and out of the front door. Slowly, scooting Lana off of her shoulder, Chloe paused when she saw Martha hovering in the hallway.

“Are you okay?” She whispered, shooting a look towards the door Whitney and Lex had exited.

“I will be, just as soon as I can see my son for myself. You go on, I’ll make sure she’s okay.” Martha smiled weakly at her, the dark of her hair only making her pallor stand out. “Just, find Clark, would you?”

“We’ll do our best, Mrs. Kent. Hopefully we’re on the right track.” Chloe smiled at her as she left, running to see Lex’s Porsche revving up.

 

* * *

 

"Deputy, where is your partner tonight?" Whitney asks, with an unsteady look.

"Gary?" Vertigo asked, looking at their ashen faces, as they burst through the doors, "He works part time at the carnival, security guard. I didn't know carnival grounds needed security guards."

Chloe sucked in a sharp breath, "The carnival grounds aren't open this late in the year, Deputy."

Lex's face turned grim, "It would be the perfect place to hide someone."

“What? What’re you saying? You think Gary Watts kidnapped your friend?” Vertigo shook his head, “Look I know Gary, and sure he’s a bit weird, but he’d never hurt a kid.” Vertigo puffed up, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have important things to do.”

“Like what?” Chloe stepped in front of him, “Fill the printer with more paper? Come with us, and if we’re wrong, we’re wrong. But, if we’re right, you can apprehend a criminal no matter how much you wish he wasn’t one.”

Vertigo hesitated and looked at each of their faces before giving in. “Homebase, I’m going to check out a 10-15, some kids came in the station and are asking for help. I’ll hopefully be back in about an hour.” He spoke into his radio, and grabbed a thick coat, “Okay, let’s go. Man, I hope you guys are _wrong_.” Vertigo muttered, racing out of the door with them.

 

* * *

 

“T-there’s nothing you could do to me that would make me talk.” Clark groaned, as Watts slowly ground rubbed Kryptonite into his cuts.

“If you don’t talk, you die.” Watts shrugged his shoulder, “Either way, it’s a win-win situation for me.”

“I h-haate people like you the most-” Clark cries out, sobbing when Watts angrily shoves more Kryptonite into his swollen mouth.

“I know better than to listen to you talk, monster. If you won’t tell me, I’ll have to find the others you’ve collected and convince them instead.” Watts wrapped a Kryptonite necklace around his neck, and walked away, closing the door to the dimly lit room.

Sighing, Watts continued to walk and shrugged off his mask, freezing when he saw a shadow move, before shaking his head and continuing to walk.

“Okay,” Lex said turning back to the corner, and taking a quiet breath, “Whitney, Chloe, look in the north direction, Deputy, West and East, I’ll take South.” Lex ordered them, forcing them to accept before they split up. “We all have cell phones, if you find anything, _call_.”

Quietly, they all walked into darkness, and Lex instead of heading south, snuck down the corridor he swore he heard footsteps from.

Gently turning every door knob, he discovered countless empty rooms before coming to the end of the hall.

“Clark?” Lex whispered into the room, his stomach dropping under him, as his eyes widened in terror. “Clark! Shit,-” Lex raced to his side, throwing the meteor rocks away from him.

“Clark, come on, stay awake.” Lex held his head in his arms, ripping off a delicately glowing rock off of his neck. Hesitantly, Lex grabbed one of the heavier meteor rocks and raised it against the shackles.

“Come on,” Lex through a harried look towards the door and kept hitting the shackles with all his might. Tirelessly beating the shackles, they slowly fell apart and Lex took a calming breath.

“We’ve got to go, Clark. We have to get you out of here, alright? I’m going to take off your shirt, you’re friends might freak out at seeing so much blood.”

Clark whimpered against his shoulder, and Lex paused in his undressing to squeeze Clark’s face, his horror mounting as meteor rock slowly spilled from his mouth. Ripping off Clark’s shirt, he stuffed it into his jacket in pieces, and hoisted Clark around his shoulder.

Making it past the doorway, Lex continues to heave Clark away from the glowing room. Blood dripping onto his clothes and down his neck, Lex shudders at the warm liquid touching his skin. Scrambling for his phone, Lex pushes Clark into a corner, shielding him, and calls the Deputy.

“Deputy, I found him.” He snaps, peering into the darkness for any signs of movement.

“Oh, thank god. Poor kid.” Deputy Vertigo practically bawls, “I’ll get an ambulance down here, and- and a team. He’s been stalking more kids, God knows what he would’ve done to them. Just get to the front of the circus grounds, and be careful, he’s still out there.”

Lex shudders at the thought of more people being on a psychopath’s list, “Clark? Can you hear me?” Lex brushes his sweaty hair aside, opening Clark’s closed eyes.

“Clark?”

“Lex,” Clark whimpers, barely able to clutch at Lex.

“You’re going to be okay. There’s no more meteor rocks,” Lex consoled him, holding in his rattled feelings as cuts slowly started to disappear from his body. “You have to stay awake, at least until the ambulance gets here.”

“No, you can’t let them take me, Lex. You _can’t_.” Clark begs him, slurring his words, as they sprout from his inflamed mouth.

“I won’t let anyone take you away, Clark.” Lex presses a kiss to his sweaty forehead, feeling Clark’s blood slowly drying on his skin. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” He promises, as Clark flickers in and out of consciousness.

 

* * *

 

“In Breaking News, today in Smallville, a cop was arrested for kidnapping, assaulting, and stalking a teenager, who will remain anonymous for reasons of privacy. The perpetrator in question has several charges pending for further stalking several teens as well. The police however, are not revealing any names, having just informed the families.”

“Jared, can you tell me how you feel, having teenagers of your own-.” Lex flipped the television off, sitting at Clark’s bedside as the sun slowly rose over the horizon.

Martha slowly smiled at him, clasping Clark’s hand tightly as he lay unconscious on the hospital bed. Jonathan quietly burst into the room, holding several cups of charred black coffee, and sugar packets. “Here you go, Lex. It’s nothing fancy, but-”

“It’ll do,” Lex yawned, taking a small sip of his steaming tar, the bags under his eyes prominent.

“Thanks, dear.” Martha poured sugar into her coffee, and drank it straight away, emptying her cup within minutes.

“You’ll burn your mouth, dea- nevermind.” Jonathan fondly shook his head, looking towards Clark with a somber expression.

“Doctor, Deputy Vertigo.” Lex greeted as the dark haired woman stepped into the room alongside Deputy Vertigo.

“Sir, Ma’am. Mr. Luthor. We’ll be wrapping up the case, real soon, we’ve definitely got enough to convict him, and well, his actions speak for themselves.” Vertigo fumbled with his jacket, nodding to Martha and Jonathan.

“Will there be a trial?” Jonathan asked, putting down his coffee.

“Yes, but your son won’t be required to speak. Traumatic memories, emotional distress and whatnot. He’s still a minor and the courts are still rather sensitive about that. Watts will be going away for a long time. When your son wakes up, tell him he doesn’t have to be afraid anymore.” Vertigo looked morosely to Clark, and said his goodbyes.

“Is there something wrong, Dr. Harden?” Martha sat on the edge of her seat, looking towards the diminutive doctor.

“No,” She shook her head, “He’s just fine. All he needs to do is wake up and we’ll run some concussion tests, since he’s already pretty wrapped up. I didn’t look like anything was broken, and barely any cuts. He got lucky.” Dr. Harden smiled at them, “I’ve heard of some cases where they come in bad shape. Lucky you found him before anything could happen, Mr. Luthor.”

Lex smiled wanly at the doctor, rolling his shoulder and feeling the dried blood flake off into his shirt. “Yeah, we all are.” Lex swallowed down his coffee, as Dr. Harden, talked to Jonathan and Martha, reassuring them of Clark’s condition.

Clark’s shirt, tucked into his waistband had never felt more like a beacon for trouble.

 

* * *

 

Whitney sat at a table in the Talon, watching the early morning sun rise through the sky. “How you feeling?” He asked, looking over to see Lana clutching at her head.  

“Better some hours, worse others.” She shook her head, “The vision-dreams have stopped, so I guess that’s a plus.” She said filling coffee cups and handing platters to Jess from the table.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the doctor?” Chloe peered at the palor of Lana’s skin, threading their fingers together.

“No,” Lana put down the coffee pot, “They’re just headaches. And I can deal with headaches better than visions of my friends getting hurt. Are you alright, Whitney?”

“Yeah. It’s just-” Whitney sat up straighter in his chair, “I talked to Clark about something I found in my dad’s things and I finally decided what it is I want to do.”

Chloe and Lana exchanged looks, “So, what is this thing you decided to do?” Chloe prodded Whitney, as he pulled something from his jacket.

Whitney puts a small box on the table and opens it, revealing three army medals.

Lana looked to the metals and then back to Whitney’s glowing face, “These were your father's?”

“Yeah,” A look of grief passed over Whitney’s features, before he returned to smiling, “I knew he served in Vietnam, but he never talked about it.”

Chloe leaned into the peer at the medals,  “Do you know what they're for?” She cocked her head with curiosity.  

“They keep a registry on the internet. The silver star is for exceptional valor. He rescued three men in his unit during the fight. He was wounded, but he wouldn't leave his men behind.” Whitney spoke with pride, even as his eyes filled with tears.

“That sounds like him.” Lana leaned over the hold Whitney’s hand, “I wonder why he never told you.”

“He never told me about serving but, he did tell me he’d be proud no matter what.” Whitney sniffled, giving the ceiling a momentary glance, “I told him I was so sorry I lost that football scholarship, but all he ever wanted me to do was be happy and sure of how I was living my life.”

Whitney paused, grabbing a tissue from his jacket before blowing his nose, “I want join the marines. And I know it’s dangerous, - I know I may not come back alive. But I need to do it.” Whitney nodded his head, looking at the surprised expressions on their faces.

“Are you sure?” Lana whispered, squeezing his hand tight.

Chloe stays silent, watching Lana tremble in the echo of his decision, “Yeah. I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Lana swallows down her tears, and the tremor in her voice. She shakes her head and changes the subject, “How’s Clark? Have you dropped by to visit him?” She looks to Chloe and Whitney, “I’ll drop by as soon as my shift is done at the Talon.”

“Unconscious still.” Chloe murmurs, “The doctor’s say they’ll start worrying if he doesn’t wake up tomorrow. He could have real bad blunt trauma, since Watts attacked him at the hospital. I haven’t been by but Lex has been keeping me updated. Only so many people can visit one person at a time, and those spots are all taken.”

“I’m so glad he’s okay. Was he hurt...badly?” Lana held her breath, at the look on their faces.

“No, just a bit banged up. Barely any blood, just mostly some scrapes and cuts. A bit bruised up. He’ll be fine, Lana, we just have to wait and see.” Whitney recalled, remembering Lex dragging along a half conscious Clark into the ambulance.

“Good. Whew,” Lana sighed, “I can be at ease now.” She smiled, and hugged them goodbye as another patron called her away.

“I’ve got to get going too, Chloe.” Whitney nodded at her and closed the box, shoving it back into his jacket. “Call me when he wakes up?”

“Yeah,” Chloe took a sip of her coffee and watched Whitney walk away, her phone burning a hole in her pocket.

 

* * *

 

"I think this guy knew something was happening with the meteor rocks." Chloe slams the hospital door behind her, eyeing the barren room.

"Evidence?” Lex turns on his heel, looking at her tired eyes.

Chloe pulled out her phone, “He had detailed and I mean _detailed_ pictures of meteor rocks, and a massive collection. He took pictures, schedules, video, audio even, of kids my age! I don’t know these people personally, but I know they go to Smallville High.”

Lex paced the room, “You think we might not be the only one's studying its effects on people? That we might not have been the first people to notice?"

"I hope not. His work seemed rushed, nothing like what I put out. He was really concentrated on Clark, but as weird as Clark is, he's never shown any weird powers, or psychosis, unlike some of the others."

"Of course," Lex lied smoothly, "What about the others he was...studying?"

"There's a lot them," Chloe said, handing over her phone, "Even some we don't have. I snagged a lot of photos when the Deputy wasn't looking, but I couldn't actually touch anything."

"Right. I'll work on getting the evidence as soon as they finish with it. Can you watch the people on the list?" Lex looked through the photos with interest, taking in what he could.

"And I mean, _watch_ not interact. The last one messed you up badly, Chloe. If these people have any powers like Justin, you'll need to be careful. And send me those in an email.” He handed back her phone, and waited for her to finish writing.

Chloe nodded, jotting down their names, and passed it to Lex. "I will. Call me if anything changes with Clark."

Lex nodded as she left, closing the door behind her. Sending an empty trashcan flying, he allowed his anger to bubble up before slipping back into an empty mask.

Grabbing his phone, Lex dialed a number he hated but could not deny its’ usefulness, “Detective Phelan, it’s so nice to speak to you again. I would like a moment of your time."

 

* * *

 

"Good afternoon, I’m glad you’re up.” A woman leans over Clark, opening his squinted eyes by force and flashing a light at them.

“Sorry, I know I should give you time to really wake up, but I want to make sure you’re okay.” She patted his head, pulling away the light and smiling at him.

“Dr. Harden,” Clark croaked in relief, “For a moment I didn’t recognize you. I’m at the hospital, then?”

“You gave everyone quite a scare,” Dr. Harden nodded, “But yes, Smallville Medical Center at your beck and call. I’ll get your parents, and Mr. Luthor. They’ll be very happy to see you up, even if you’re not about!” Dr. Harden did a funny little jig out of the door, and Clark smiled woozily, letting his head fall back into the pillow.

Minutes later, Clark was startled out of his reverie as his parents and Lex bounded through the door with big enough bags to match their smiles.

“Ma, Dad, Lex!” Clark lifted his arms, although they felt like lead, and happily embraced them.

Burying his face into his mother’s hair, the euphoria coursing through his veins had never felt stronger.

“I’m so happy you’re okay.” Martha kissed his cheeks, as Jonathan embraced his side, too teared up to speak properly. Smiling, Clark was happily smothered in between the three people he loved the most.

Slowly, Lex stroked Clark’s hair, and peeking at his face, Clark could see the relief swamping every other emotion within him.

“Aww.” Dr. Harden cheered, “I love family reunions. They’re always so cute. Now, I’m absolutely certain you don’t have a concussion which is great, but you might be a bit sore. I would recommend some nice icy-hot patches, over those sore areas, and less movement. You can stay overnight if you like,-” Dr. Harden paused at the sad puppy dog eyes Clark gave her, before blabbering on, “Or you could go home under a very watchful eye.”

“Can I go home? Please?” Clark begged his parents, even if he knew he didn’t have to, considering their antsiness whenever he lingered in a medical center.

“I bought you some clothes, and you can take a bath when you get home. Can you stand, sweetheart?” Martha fretted over him, as he slowly made his way off of the bed, “If you can’t your father can sit on the toilet, and if you need any help-

”I’ll be fine, Ma.” Clark spat out, blushing bright red. “I don’t need help taking a bath.”

“What about a wheelchair? Can we borrow one of those?” Jonathan asked, eyeing Clark’s wobbly legs, as Martha and Lex struggled to help him stand properly.

“I’m sure you can check one out, but let me check with the front desk!” Dr. Harden looked fondly at the Kent family before taking off down the hall.

“I-I don’t need a wheelchair, Dad! Just, let me get used to my legs!” Clark scrambled for purchase, the pins and needles in his legs slowly fading away.

 

* * *

 

Clark walked slowly into Cassandra’s room, with numb toes a favorite book of his, and freshly towel dried hair.

“Sorry, I’m a bit late. Ma and Dad didn't want me going anywhere, but I managed to convince them nothing would want to kill me at a retirement center.” Clark apologizes, shuffling slowly to her bed and sitting at her side.

“A little lateness never killed anyone who wasn’t already going to die, Clark. You’re walking much slower, is everything alright?” She asked, putting aside her book.

“I got hurt...with Kryptonite, tortured really.” Clark sighed, rubbing his arms.

“Oh, dear." Cassandra reached for his face and stroked his cheek, "And are you healing, well?”

“Yes, but,” Clark’s eyebrows furrow, “I don’t understand. I didn’t see this in your visions. Did you know this would happen to me?”

“No,” Cassandra shakes her head, “The future is always changing, Clark, stretching and pulling is so many directions. For all that I can see pieces of it, I can never truly know everything to come.”

"If it changes so much, and you’re not entirely sure of what’s to come, can I save him from Helen?"

Cassandra purses her lips, “We could take a look, but I do not know if what we see today is what we’ll see tomorrow, Clark.”

“That’s fine. I just need a battle plan. I don’t want to go in empty handed.” Clark slowly holds hands with Cassandra, and everything goes to black.

Moments later, Clark and Cassandra gasp, shooting apart, and Clark goes dizzy with the feeling of static in his brain.

Cassandra heaves heavily, dropping to her bed, “That- that has never happened before.” She shudders with apprehension, “Something’s messing with the future. Something- _someone_. Helen, I can’t see much. Her death is strange, there and not.”

“What?” Clark shot up, barely managing to stand before falling to the floor, holding his head to the cold linoleum. “What do you mean? Is it me? Did my coming here make it different somehow? Why would it change now, when you saw perfectly when we met?”

“It’s not you but this..static. I can see some pieces, the way she meets Lex. How she goes about her daily life, but there is something blocking me from seeing anything else. Some-”

Cassandra concentrates, clutching her head, “Not something- not something, _someone_.”

She trembles, her old bones feeling chilled, “Are you sure _you’re_ the only one who came from the future?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come check me out on [Tumblr](http://just-kent-ing-around.tumblr.com/) for updates, progress reports, and snippets for future projects.  
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!


	18. Alien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Chloe? What’s wrong? What happened?” Lana crowds her, pulling her into a hug.
> 
> Chloe stares at them blankly, “They're closing the LuthorCorp Plant.”
> 
> “I know you’re probably afraid of the risk I’m asking you to take. But, I'm offering you the chance to take control of your own destiny. To shove it right back in my father’s face that even if he closed the Smallville plant, you can still keep it open.”
> 
> Lex sat at an oak brown table, smiling gently at Joseph Willowbrook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think I could make to the end of Season 1, but here we are folks!! ~~Aren't you all proud??? No? Just me...~~  
>  God, when I started this story, I only had a bare-boned plot up until episode 14, with small things I wanted to change.  
> It's turned into a monstrosity and all I wanted was a good reveal fic. Welp, you reap what you sow, and I am sowing with farm grade equipment.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, because indeed it will have to keep you warm for two weeks. So stoke your fires carefully!!
> 
> (P.S. I have decided to take a two week hiatus, while I plan, plot, and ponder on Season 2. I will return the day after Christmas, or maybe Christmas itself...)
> 
> Much love to you all, my readers, lurkers, commentators, and friends who've cheered me on!

“Who never doubted, never half believed. Where doubt is, there truth is - it is her shadow.” - Ambrose Bierce

 

* * *

 

“Beautiful day, isn't it?” Lionel yells loudly over the roar of the helicopter’s blades, stepping out of the chopper and walking alongside Lex.

Looking up to the sky Lex remarks, “So far, but they're calling for storms later.” He continues to look up, and spots dark clouds far off into the horizon, a chill creeps over him.

“Is everyone assembled?” Lionel asks, flipping his hair back, and adjusting his glasses.

Lex side eyes his father, trailing behind, “24 hours isn't a lot of notice, even for a plant of this size. People were looking forward to having a day off, Dad. Are you going to tell me what this speech is about?”

Lionel barely takes the time to glance back as he climbs the stairs, “Just one of my customary motivational speeches you've heard hundreds of times, Lex.”

Lex rolls his eyes at his father, before he narrows them in suspicion, “The plant made a profit this quarter for the first time in two years. My people are expecting a pat on the back and they deserve to get it.”

“They’ll certainly won’t be the only ones getting what they deserve.” Lionel nods to him and climbs onto the platform to the sound of cheers, the employees at looking at him expectantly proud. Lionel smiles, acting gracious and kind, waving to the crowd, “Thank you. Thank you.”

He adjusts the mic, as the cheers die down, and he smiles re-assuredly at them, “As most of you know, you've all worked extremely hard this past year and you should all be proud of yourselves.”

Lex looks out on the employee's and claps alongside them, an amplitude of pride in his gut to see the people of Smallville so proud to work at LuthorCorp.

Lionel leans on the podium, delivering his speech, “Just as a ship can only follow the course set by its captain, any business is only as good as its leadership.”

Lex glances at his father in surprise, and then tenses horribly, his stomach on the verge of dropping.

“Due to management failures beyond your control,” Lionel looks none too subtly at Lex, before turning back to the antsy crowd, “This plant will be closing, effective immediately. Good luck to all of you.” He ends succinctly, swiftly turning on his heel and towards the steps to the chopper.

“You just fired 2500 people and blamed it on me.” Lex snarled, briskly walking after his father, “You single handedly ruined Smallville’s chance at a burgeoning economy. Do you have any idea what closing this plant will do to Smallville?”

“Oh, son, I know you like the back of my hand. PR will be able to spin this amicably, you may suffer a small public set back, but what is one failure to a future of glory? Smallville isn't in your future, a paragraph at most in your biography.” Lionel points his words, aimed to entangle him in their false comfort.

“We live in a meritocracy, Lex. The weak get left behind. The plant produced a profit for the first time in two years, but what happens when you’re back in Metropolis?” Lionel waves a hand towards the helicopter, as it’s blades begin to whir, “Those people will just go back to what they always have, and once again, LuthorCorp will be at a loss.”

 Lex scoffs at his father’s back, “Enough with the corporate spiel. Those people have partners, and children, mortgages, bills! They did not love the Luthor name, but at least they tolerated it! Do you have any idea of what they’ll do-”

“We're in business to make profits, not friends! Don’t let your emotions get in the way of what you need to do. Like coming back home. You’ll notice I’m not dancing around the subject, but sometimes Lex, I tire of your games. A ruler expects to be respected, and I expect you to listen and respect what I say.”

“Don’t bring respect into this, or my ‘lose emotional control,’ I doubt you had either-” Lex yells at his father, barely hearing himself over the clamor of the chopper and the angry people at their backs.

“Enough of the excuses, Lex. You think you built a home here, but you were mistaken! These people, this town,-” Lionel shakes his head at the angry employees, “-They’ll rip you apart now that the plant is closed. Whatever fondness you have for this layman’s town, I suggest you get rid of it. Such attachments are hardly useful if you want to be as young and powerful as you hope to be. One day you’ll see, I’m only trying to help you, Lex.”

“You say you tire of my games, but when have you ever stopped playing, Dad?” Lex snaps, as the helicopter flies away, and the security make to escort him from the premises, away from the angry crowd.

 

* * *

 

“Okay,” Lana leans on Clark’s shoulder, “Blue, or pink?” She narrows her eyes looking at the corsages, and then to Clark.

“Have you asked Chloe what color her dress was? Or better yet, showed her the color of the roses? Social faux pas is showing up with the wrong color to put around her wrist!” Clark comments, pursing his lips.

“I should definitely do that...as soon as she gets here. She’s a bit late, isn’t she?” Lana puts down the corsages, shoving them into her locker, looking towards the front doors impatiently.

“Eh, it happens. She’ll type up a manuscript all night and then fall asleep at four in the morning. I don’t know how she does it. I need at least ten hours to feel alive.”

“Chloe wouldn’t be Chloe if she wasn’t a superwoman, quirks and insomnia included.” Lana shrugs, “I forgot to say it before, but, thank you for offering to drop off Whitney. I would go, but this is our first dance,-”

“And you wouldn’t want to miss it for the world?” Clark smiles at her, “I understand. Go, enjoy your night, being young, wild, and carefree, dancing queen. Besides it’s not like I have a date to the dance.”

“And why not?” Lana looks at him in concern, “I know you like, Lex,” She whispers quietly, and coughs, “But you could still come stag, or with a friend?” She offers, looking at him earnestly.

“I highly doubt I have anyone to go with, I’m not exactly social with anyone else.” Clark gave her an unimpressed look before it shifted to one of horror, “I need to find more friends. Whitney’s going off on his own and now I’m back down to less than ten.”

“What a tragedy,” Lana teased, “Poor Clark Kent, the boy who couldn’t find a date because he had less than ten friends.” Lana sighed as Chloe missed the warning bell, “Wait, ten friends? Who are these other friends I don’t know about?” Lana leaned in curious.

“Well, there’s you, Lex, Chloe, Whitney, Kyle, Ryan, Cassandra, and Sasha. Do parents count?” Clark asked, counting his fingers.

Lana burst into laughter, “They totally do not count, at all. I didn’t think you’d be friends with Sasha Woodman, of all people.”

“Why not?” Clark asked, turning himself away from the torrent of people streaming through the doors.

Lana trails off, tucking her hair behind her ear, “She seems so...”

“Uptight?” Clark suggests.

“Scholarly focused,” Lana grumbles at him, “You’re always kind of lone wolf, Clark. Forgive me if I don’t think you make a lot of friends normally, okay?” Lana pleaded, her lips trembling.

“You’re right, I don’t make friends normally. It’s always something...Sasha’s cool though. She’s not as uptight as she used to be. A lot more zen about life in general ever since the election.”

Lana nods, pausing when she sees Chloe tearfully walk up to them.

“Chloe? What’s wrong? What happened?” Lana crowds her, pulling her into a hug.

Chloe stares at them blankly, “They're closing the LuthorCorp Plant.”

Lana looks to Clark in surprise, and he shrugs his shoulders helplessly, “What do you mean?”

 

* * *

 

“So you guys heard,” Clark hurriedly walks through the door, closing it behind him and kissing his parents cheeks, joining them on the couch.

“ _The Ledger_ rushed a special edition. They haven't done that since the meteor shower.” Martha puts _The Ledger_ back onto the table and curls into Jonathan’s side.

“How's this gonna affect us Ma, Dad?” Clark asked for propriety’s sake, knowing Lex wouldn’t let the plant close.

“The plant was Smallville's biggest employer. Shutting it down is gonna have a domino effect on everyone. We might be able to make it, but it’ll be nothing like now, son. The plant provides people jobs, gives them money to spend on bills and luxuries. Without it, Smallville will go back to being a farmer’s town, and the population is going to get a lot smaller.” Jonathan runs a hand through his hair, trying not to let the stress show.

“People don’t move out here for fun, sweetheart.” Martha kisses his hair, “Not unless they have the money to not care, or the knowhow on how to make it work. We’ll have to start farming our own food, see if we can’t snatch up some contracts from Metropolis, no matter the drive.”

Jonathan nodded, and sighed, resting his head on the couch, “We’ll see what we can sell off, right before everything hits. We’ve got a month or two before the people start leaving in droves. If we sell well, we’ll be able to make a dent in the bills so we won’t have to worry so much if we can’t make it some months.”

Martha looks to Jonathan sadly, but shakes her head, “How’s Lex, sweetheart? We were out earlier and,-” Martha frowns, crossing her arms, “Let’s just say no one had anything pleasant to say about him or his father, but mostly him.”

“I don’t know. I  haven’t had the chance to talk to him. His dad may have closed the plant, but I don’t think Lex is going to take it lying down. I’m gonna go see him, I’ll be back for lunch.” Clark murmurs, hugging his parents, before speeding out of the house.

 

* * *

 

"Aunt Nell?" Lana opens the door to the flower shop, watching as her Aunt hangs up the phone.

"Lana," Nell sighs, wrapping a bouquet of flowers, "There you are."

"You called. I don't have a lot of time, cause Jess has to head out in about an hour," Lana walks to the counter, helping Nell prop up the flowers, eyeing Nell's frown.

"The Luthor Plant closed today," Nell shook her head, "I never thought it could happen. Usually Luthors are competent." Nell ties a bow around the bouquet setting it aside. "We need to talk about the shop," Nell tapped her fingers on the counter, "And your work at the Talon."

"You-" Lana bit her lip, crossing her arms, with a somber look, "You want to leave, don't you?"

Nell clicked her mouth, looking sadly at Lana, "Yes, I do. I know you love Smallville, and it's my home too-" Nell reaches across the counter, squeezing Lana's shoulder, "But I have to make the financial decisions for us, the tough calls. There's still people in Smallville now, but a month from now?" 

Nell purses her lips, "We might be the only flower shop in Smallville, but people aren't going to want to buy flowers when they can barely afford rent."

"What about the Talon?" Lana spoke, her voice thick with emotion, "I convinced Lex Luthor to remodel it, so I could keep one last thing from my parents. Do you want me to just abandon it?" The tears started to slip out, but Lana was quick to wipe them away.

"I know, _I know."_ Nell tried to coax her, "This sucks and it's awful. I don't want you to lose all of this either, but if the plant's closed, then Lex Luthor is going back home - to Metropolis, and he's taking Smallville's economy with him."

 

* * *

 

Clark sits on the couch, looking to the bookshelves in boredom, and sighs.

Lex walks into his office, and hefts a heavy pile of folders onto his desk before he flops down, gracelessly beside Clark. “I got your messages...but I've been having a bad day. It’s funny how a single hour can ruin so much of your life, isn’t it?” Lex sighs, and leans on Clark’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, Lex. I don’t blame you, my parents don’t blame you. Whatever happened...” Clark gently rubbed circles onto his back.

“My dad decided to be petty about my not accepting his offer. I slighted his pride by not immediately bending mine. I should’ve known he would’ve done something like this. He thinks he’s helping me, but if I leave Smallville-” He looks up into Clark’s guileless eyes, “I want it to be on my terms, and not his.”

“You’ll get through this Lex. I don’t know how, but I know you won’t give up without giving as good as you’ll get. Do you want to take a small break?” Clark asks, looking at Lex eagerly.

Lex looks to Clark wistfully, “When this is over, Clark. I can take a break as long as I like.” He stands, and walks over to his desk, as Clark sulks on the couch.

“And do you have an attack plan?” Clark rests on his elbows, looking petulantly at Lex.

“Maybe,” Lex sits at his desk and opens files, browsing through them quickly.

“Can I borrow some books?” Clark asks, tapping the spines as he walked through the shelves.

“Feel free, but try not to get coffee on them, _again._ ” Lex pretends to complain, arching an eyebrow at Clark’s sheepish face.

“I definitely try my best.” Clark takes a false look at his watch, as he picks out the books and leaves them on a side table, “I’ll have to come back later for them, so don’t go drowning in paperwork, okay?”

Lex looks up from his paperwork, and the stress melts away to reveal a smile, “I’ll try. Thanks for stopping by. It-”

Clark runs to Lex’s desk and gives him a tight hug, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek, far away from his mouth. “See you later.” Clark grins like a goof as Lex shakes his head fondly, closing the door softly behind himself.

 

* * *

 

“How are you doing?” Lana quietly closed the door to the Torch, and wrapped Chloe into a hug.

“My dad and I can't really do the whole depressed thing together, so I came here. I’m okay, I guess...” Chloe shrugged tearfully, trying to hide her face.  

“If you’re not up for the dance, and just want to stay in, Chloe, I’ll understand.” Lana consoles her, squeezing her tighter.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to it for ages, and I’m not going to let it pass me by. Besides,” Chloe sniffles, and grimaces, “I want to enjoy all the Smallville customs with you while I can.”

Lana froze at her words, “Why?” She asked,  “Where are you going?”

Chloe looks to the floor, avoiding Lana’s searching gaze, “My dad's talking about moving us back to Metropolis.”

Lana goes still, “B-but-”

“Permanently.” Chloe winces, at the distraught look on Lana’s face.

“But the what about the Torch? Our friends? _Us?_ ” Lana looks for an answer on Chloe’s face, and tears up when she doesn’t find one.

Chloe shakes her head, and tries to get away from Lana, “I don’t want to think about that right now. I- I _can’t_ , Lana.”

“I mean, when he said per-”

“He meant it.” Chloe sniffled, and sulked back into Lana’s arms, “Smallville doesn’t have enough jobs for everyone without the plant. And even with all his experience, there’s too many people here. With the whole plant looking for jobs, and the domino effect of losing the plant, Smallville’s gonna be hit hard. At least in Metropolis he can find a good job, maybe an okay apartment.” Chloe tries to make the situation seem better. “I’ll have to fight my way up the hierarchy again. I was happy I wasn’t the new girl anymore. You’ll miss me, won’t you?”

Lana lays a kiss on Chloe’s forehead, “About that-”

“You won’t miss me?” Chloe frowns, her heart palpitating rapidly.

“I always miss you, Chloe. Even if you’re just standing in another room.” Lana squeezed her hip, nuzzling her cheek, “Nell heard earlier about the plant closing and she started talking about new options. We-we might move too. It turns out without the plant, the people or the jobs, a lot of people might not be looking to buy flowers. Ergo, no flower shop needed in Smallville.”

“Where are you guys gonna go?” Chloe blinks at the unexpected news, holding onto Lana tightly.

“Nell was thinking Metropolis, but we’d have a lot of competition. I don’t know if I want to move.” Lana grumbled, clutching at Chloe’s shoulders.

“The Talon?”  Chloe guesses, remembering how happy Lana had been to co-manage with her Aunt.

“If there’s no Lex, and no people, I doubt we’d turn much of a profit. Not one worth keeping anyways. Smallville’s the only home I’ve ever known, and I don’t want to leave, but- but if there’s no other choice...” Lana hid her face, trying to stop the tears, "I don't know what to do."

Chloe smiles at Lana brightly through her tears, a hysteric giggle climbing up her throat, “Just think happy thoughts, we could be neighbors.”

 

* * *

 

Lex walks into his study, careful to keep his countenance calm.

“I appreciate you coming.” He speaks to the group of managers, milling around his office. “My father doesn't know about this meeting, and I'd like to keep it that way.” He smiles at them slightly, enough to try to instill good will, before he sits at his desk.

“When I arrived at Smallville, everyone assumed I’d only gotten the job due to nepotism. They thought I was an unskilled, pompous, spoiled boy who Daddy promoted over the heads of the more competent and deserving. And I won’t say my reputation wasn’t ill deserved. But I’d like to think I’ve changed.”

Lex leaned on his elbows, and made delicate eye contact with those standing around him, “I saw all of you working hard everyday. Good, honest, salt of the earth people, and I thought, these are the people I should emulate, not some idiot hopped up on his own self importance. I want to think that the people in this room see me differently than the boy who came here.”

Lex grabbed a folder, and handed it to the closest manager, “If we can raise the capital for an employee lead buy-out, we can keep the plant running.”

“A buyout?” One of them scoffs, shaking their head.

“I can raise nearly 90% of the capital.” He assures, looking at their disbelieving faces.

“What about the rest? We're supposed to mortgage our houses?” They pass the folder around, each at least skimming over his proposal.

“It's a risk, a big one, but in exchange, the investors will become minority owners.” Lex recites from memory, shaking his head to dispel the memories of his father’s lecturing.  

Gabe Sullivan steps out of the crowd, and looks him in the eye, “Doesn't your father control the board? What makes you think he's gonna go along with a buyout? Why would you go against your own father?”

A buzz of suspicion falls over the managers, and they all try to not look at him accusingly.

“Because you’re good people. Honest ones, who have lives, and families that shouldn’t be uprooted just because my father thinks he knows what’s best. I know a couple of members I can convince, and I don't need a unanimous decision, just enough to tip the scales.”

“I know you’re probably afraid of the risk I’m asking you to take. But, I'm offering you the chance to take control of your own destiny. To shove it right back in my father’s face that even if he closed the Smallville plant, _you_ can still keep it open.”

 

* * *

 

Lex sat at an oak brown table, smiling gently at Joseph Willowbrook. The man in question looked at him in disbelief, scrolling through the gallery on his phone.

"A friend of mine found it. He was out dirt biking and fell through. He didn't know what it was, or what he'd found, so he asked me. I had a partner of mine look into the caves in the area, and I found out that the Kawatche tribe used to call these lands their own. " Lex commented, as Joseph paused in his scrolling.

"If we could go see it?" Joseph, looked down at the pictures on Lex’s phone, hope creeping into his voice.

“Of course,” Lex agreed, taking back his phone, “Considering this could be historically and culturally important to your tribe, I would expect nothing less.”

 

* * *

 

"I did not think it possible. This is the Legend of Naman,- I’ve been looking for it all my life.” Joseph touches the wall gently, looking at it with an awestruck expression.

“The Legend of Naman?” Lex asked, looking at the vibrant cave paintings.

Joseph turns to Lex, the bright sun beating down on the opening to the cave, “The Legend of Naman has been passed down by our ancestors for generations. Written in the earth, long ago, there was a prophecy that Naman would fall from the skies in a rain of fire. It is said that Naman will have the strength of ten men, able to start fires with his eyes, and frost from his mouth.”

“We thought it lost,” Joseph looked at Lex, “But it is no more. Thank you, Mr. Luthor, thank you. My people will be overjoyed to see a legend rediscovered.”

Lex shuffled at Joseph’s praise, "I’m not the one who found it. Just a messenger. But, I would like to study it, this place-” Lex looked at the strange octagonal shape, and the symbols surrounding it, “These symbols are they your tribes?”

Joseph turned to inspect the strange octagonal shape, carved into the wall, “No.” He shook his head, running his hand over the symbols. “The Kawatche tribe does not have a written language, but this looks old. Just as old as the paintings, although I can’t be sure.”

Lex nodded at his words, the questions turning in his mind, “I would like to study this cave, if you would permit it. I could buy the rights to the land, and when I’m done, I could make it a historical site for your people, so that no one is able to destroy this.”

Joseph stopped in his tracks, breathing thinly, "We would be honored. And we would consider you a friend to the tribe, Mr. Luthor, for showing you are nothing like your father.”

“Ah, well.” Lex avoided Joseph’s earnest gaze, “I’m not the one who found it,-”

"No, but you are the one who is protecting it.” Joseph clasped Lex’s hands, shaking them happily, “Study what you will, but at the end, know that my tribe will be happy to have a legend returned to it. As for your friend who fell through and found it, they would also be a friend to us.”

Lex grinned at Joseph, and their clasped hands, “At the very least, I think Clark will be happy to have more friends.”

 

* * *

 

“Clark,” He heard Lex call out, setting down the wrench. Rolling out from under the truck, Clark squinted at the setting sun, as Lex’s shiny black shoes scratched with gravel underfoot.

“Lex,” Clark stood up, wiping his greasy hands on a rag before pulling Lex into a hug, “What’s up? I thought you’d be too busy to drop by with the plant and all.”

“The only thing that can resolve my problems at the plant is luck, and time, Clark. I decided to take a bit of a break, and I was wondering if you wanted to go for a drive around Miller’s Bend?”

“Yeah,” Clark smiled, “Let me change real quick, I doubt you want grease on your upholstery.”

“True enough, I’ll be waiting.” Lex pretended to tap at his watch, snickering when Clark stuck his tongue out.

“By the way, where are you parents? It’s a bit odd for them not to be here, right around now.”

“They’re out looking for contracts, before everyone else gets wise and does the same.” Clark shouted, running towards the house.

 

* * *

 

Clark’s fingers rapped on the Porsche’s dashboard, the brisk night air disheveling his hair. “So, why the drive to Miller’s Bend?”

“Did you forget your promise?” Lex looked at him from the corner of his eyes. “You said you’d come with me to the strange cave.”

Clark’s eyes lit up in recognition, “Right. Hopefully the rope is still there.” Clark muttered, looking to waning moon.

“No need for rope, Clark. I found a way in through some other caves.”

“You checked it out without me?” Clark pouted, turning his watery eyes on Lex.

“Well, I had to check if it was safe to actually go into. Besides, I thought you’d want to get a good look in without a possible concussion.” Lex veered off the road, parking in a clearing, next to a crooked tree. “We’ll have to walk about ten minutes, but it’s safer than trying to climb rope in the dark.”

“I’ll take your word on that.” Clark practically leapt out of the Porsche, trailing after Lex, pretending to look at a cave opening in wonder.

“You first,” Lex offered, and Clark squeezed past him, stumbling into a cave illuminated by moonlight.

“Wow. It looks creepier at night.” Clark walked the length of the cave, curiously ogling the walls. He stopped short of the octagonal carving, pretending to look at it with a dawning unease, as Lex came up behind him.

“Is there something wrong, Clark?” Lex asked, staring intensely at his face.

“No.” Clark shook his head, backing away from the wall, “Nothing.”

Like a twist of fate, in a stupendous act of clumsiness, Clark trips on a stray piece of rock, and hurtles towards the wall. His hand barely brushing against the stone cutout, feeling electricity coursing through his body, echoes of Jor-El invading his mind.

Lex helps Clark steady himself, “Are you sure you’re okay?” Lex looks him peculiarly, clasping his waist tightly, his gaze searching.

“Yeah,” Clark avoids his gaze, his tell as obvious as a freight train. Deliberately, Lex backs off, narrowing his eyes at the octagonal shape and unhanding Clark.

“Can we leave?” Clark asks, rubbing his arms as if he felt a chill. “This cave...it’s giving me weird vibes.”

“Weird vibes it didn’t give you the first time?” Lex probes, shining a flashlight, that’d been holstered on his hip.

“There’s something about it. It feels like something is calling me.”

Lex’s gaze goes sharp at his words, “Calling you how?”

“I-I don’t know. Can we seriously leave, Lex? This place is setting me on edge.” Clark complains, sulking at the entrance to the cave.

Lex purses his lips, but nods, “Alright. Are you sure you’re not feeling sick? Maybe there’s some after effects from that psychopathic cop-”

“I think it’s just the cave.” Clark rebuts.

“You were fine when you stepped in.” Lex gnashes his teeth, but stays silent, before he pipes up again, “Are you sure?”

Clark sighs heavily, fighting the urge to throw himself into a wall.

 

* * *

 

Clark skulks into the Talon, sulking and wincing in equal turns as he settles into a chair.

“Clark? Are you okay?” Lana pauses from wiping down tables, “Is there something wrong?”

“I just... everything is happening so fast. It’s hard to think any of this is real, but it’s here, and relentless. Whitney’s joining the marines, Chloe said she’s probably leaving, Ma and Dad are scrounging for any contracts they can get their hands on, the plant’s closed, and Lex might leave too. I’m swimming against a tsunami, Lana, and I _hate_ it.” Clark looks down miserably, curling into himself.

Lana pauses as she sits across from Clark, and gently takes his hand, “I- I have something to say too, and I hate to tell you this, because I can tell you’re going through a tough time, but-” Lana hesitates, squeezing Clark’s hand consolingly, “-Nell said she was thinking about moving us to Metropolis too.”

“What?” Clark’s eyes widen with shock, “I thought you’d stay in Smallville. The Talon is here, and so is Nell’s flower shop.”

Lana shook her head, “I thought so too, but, if the plant closes and the people leave, it’s not like anyone is going to waste money buying flowers, instead of paying rent. We’d go under in a month.”

“So, I’m going to be all alone?” Clark whispers bitterly, acting like a heartbroken teenager.

“We could still visit every weekend. If we do end up leaving, Clark, we won’t forget about you.” Lana tries to console him, blinking when she sees Lex stride in through the door.

“Coffee, please. Dark, and very strong, I’ll be needing it.” Lex hums, and takes a seat next to Clark, as Lana stands to go pour out a coffee. “Clark, I know-”

“I said _I’m fine_ _,_ Lex. It’s just, a lot is happening right now, okay? I’m kind of melting under the stress...”

Lana tries to pour slowly, aching to overhear their conversation.

“Is it something at the farm?” Lex asks in a soft voice, teeming with concern.

“It’s nothing.” Clark clams up, and Lex frowns harshly.

“It’s nothing, what? Let me help, or at least, give you a shoulder, Clark.”

“It’s nothing you’d be able to understand.” Clark spits out, before sighing. “I’m sorry, I’m being mean, - it’s just a mood swing. I’ll be better.”

Lana dolefully finishes pouring the coffee, and snags sugar cubes, putting them at the side of the cup, before walking over and setting it on the table.

“A mood swing, _right._ ” Lana grimaces as Lex takes a sip of his coffee, the disbelief written all over his face, before she taps his shoulder to pull him away.

“Is there something wrong, Lana? Or am I just stuck with a bunch of teenagers with mood swings?” Lex shakes his head, looking back to a moody Clark, as he leans against the bar.

“No, I’m perfectly fine, but Chloe’s leaving Smallville because of the plant. It’s not final yet, but it’s as good as, if her dad can’t find a job before the end of the week. Whitney’s shipping off to be a marine, and I might go too, depending on how deserted Smallville is after the plant closes.”

Lex nods, and Lana continues to speak, “He’s under a lot of stress right now, and I know you don’t need me to make excuses for Clark, but it’s not like any of us have exactly been subtle about always asking him where he is and how he feels.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m stifling him, Lana?” Lex asks, leaning over her.

She laughs nervously, but agrees, “Yes. I know we all got real nervous after Deputy Watts, and I still am, but Clark is like the wind. If you cage him he’ll just fight more. I’m trying to be more hands off, but I swear, I kind of panic at the thought of Clark going missing again.”

Lana trails off, then clears her throat, watching the veins on Lex’s temple throb, “And I can’t imagine how you feel, but we have to give him some space. We’re kind of giving him whiplash, we want to know where he is all the time, but now it seems like we’re all going to leave.” Lana cracks a smile before walking off, and Lex walks back to Clark, and pulls him into a long hug.

 

* * *

 

Lex rubs at his temples, his legs propped up onto an ottoman as he scrolls through his laptop, looking disgustedly at countless spreadsheets.

Lionel bursts through his office doors, strolling in with a self assured confidence, “I can see you’re not in a hurry to pack.” He remarks, looking down at Lex.

Lex shifts in his seat, setting aside his laptop, “I'm not leaving.”

“Accept your fate, son. It's time to move on from this layman’s town. Do you think Alexander would’ve become the conqueror he was if he didn’t return to Rome with an army? You have no armies here, Lex, no support after the plant closed. Smallville hates us Luthors, so why not come back to Metropolis?”

“Because I'm forcing a vote. The board of directors will have to accept an employee lead buy-out of the plant.” Lex states in an pompous tone, copying his father.

Lionel pours himself a drink, and faces his son, “What are you going to do? Convince the employees to take out a second mortgage? Don’t be stupid. Use the brain I gave you, for God’s sake. Even if you sell all your stock and drain your trust fund, you still come up short, Lex. What will you do about the rest of the money?” Lionel crosses the room and looms behind his son.

Lex stares at his father, tired of fighting, “Take the buyout now, dad. I’d hate for you to lose your dignity too.”

“How gracious, son. But, I don’t need your graciousness. Honestly, have you forgotten who raised you?” Lionel shakes his head, resting a hand on Lex’s shoulder.

“Four nannies, a line of butlers, I don’t care to remember, Pamela Jenkins and my _mother._ Now, if you’re asking, who lectured me, I can answer with confidence. The only way you raised me was in your shadow - to be your mirror.” Lex smiles at his father, enjoying the sour expression on his face.

“I want you to remember something son. I want you to remember that I am not kind to my enemies, even if they were once my greatest assets. A Luthor is alone in the world, only if he betrays his own. And we are Luthors! All we have is each other-”

“It’s funny how you keep returning our conversations to us only having each other.” Lex looks up at his father, “Luthors don’t have friends, Lex. They have opportunities,” Lex mocks, “If you think I have any sort of loyalty, you might’ve forgotten how many times you lectured sanctimoniously about people being a means to an end.”

Lionel puts the glass down with a heavy thud, narrowing his eyes.

“If you wanted my loyalty, well, it would’ve been easier if you’d learned to love.” Lex crosses his arms, and they stare each other down.

“What makes you think I do not love you, son?” Lionel asks, and a feeling of disquiet worms into Lex’ heart.

“Then tell me. Show me. Or,” Lex stands from his seat, “Walk out of here - and I’ll know the truth either way.”

Lionel purses his lips, and the boy in Lex waits with anticipation, as Lionel opens his mouth, twisting his mouth as if in pain.

He opens his mouth, looking viciously at Lex.

He turns on his heel.

He walks away.

Lex sinks to into his chair with an aching chest.

He opens his laptop and gets to work.

 

* * *

 

Clark sits on the stairs, resting his head on a wall, when Whitney sits beside him, the early morning sun shining through the windows.

“I know you probably already heard it a million times, but, are you okay?” Whitney looks Clark up and down.

“You’re right, I have. I’m kind of tired of hearing, if I’m honest.” Clark complains, sulking on to Whitney’s shoulder.

“Sorry.” Whitney apologizes sheepishly, “But you can’t expect us to not ask after everything that...happened. You’re tired of it, yeah, but it’s hard to forget that something like that can just happen under your nose, turning your world upside down in a moment. Any nightmares?”

“Nope.” Clark popped the p, hugging his backpack, “If I ever see a Deputy approaching me with some cuffs though, I think I might be less than genial.”

“I wouldn’t blame you.” Whitney smiles, shaking his head fondly.

“So, the marines.” Clark bobs his head, “Are you excited to have one last car ride with me?” Clark flutters his eyelashes at Whitney, sputtering loudly when Whitney wraps an arm around his neck and pulls him in for a noogie.

“Absolutely. I’m so ashamed we won’t have one final slow dance in the moonlight, Clark.” Whitney drawls, rolling his eyes.

“And you weren’t going to tell me about this moonlit slow dancing?” Lana giggles, popping her head around the corridor, “I was just wondering if you’d both headed home.”

Whitney pushes Clark away, grumbling, “I didn’t actually mean it. Please don’t tell, Luthor. I think he’s finally decided to stop wishing me dead on the spot.”

“Aw, is that so?” Lana smiles mischievously, “It’s a good thing I have him on speed-dial then. I’d hate for him to get an anonymous tip-”

“Oh my god, Lana, please, no. I’m begging here.” Whitney pleads at the look on Lana’s face, “I’ll help you pick out your make-up, just please never tell Luthor anything about what I’ve said to Clark. I’d rather not die under mysterious circumstances.”

Clark raised an eyebrow at Whitney, “Come on. Lex isn’t that bad.”

“Please keep your opinion to yourself, this is strictly facts right now, Clark.” Whitney sighs in relief as Lana strokes her chin in deep thought.

“Deal, but you also have to take a picture with us before you go.” Lana pretended to order imperiously.

“Yes, Ma’am. Blackmail has never been more loud and clear.” Whitney halfheartedly salutes her, the smile on his face growing wider as Clark snickers at his side.

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the dance?” Martha fussed over her formal wear, as Clark quickly pinned her hair into an updo.

“I’m fine, Ma. I’m going to go hang out with Lex instead and read some books, after we drop by the school and Whitney says goodbye to the girls, before he gets on his bus.”

“But-” Martha tried to convince Clark, as Jonathan waltzed into the room in a nice suit, failing to tie a bow.

“Don’t bother dear, our son has decided he’d rather not go to a dance with spiked punch.” Jonathan fumbled with the tie, silently cursing into the mirror.

“What spiked punch? I’ll be keeping an eye out.” Martha turned around to kiss Clark’s cheek, ruffing his hair. “Thank you, sweetheart. I can’t believe a book taught you how to do hair. It makes me want to pick up a book and read some more.”

“Right,” Clark smiled at her toothily, before walking to his father and swiftly tying a bow.

“Have fun chaperoning! I seriously don’t envy you at all.” Clark stifled his laughter by biting his lip, as his parents gave him stern looks. “What? You know the punch is going to be spiked sooner or later, and I for one would rather not be surrounded by crazy drunk teenagers.”

Martha and Jonathan shook their heads, hugging Clark goodbye, “You’ve grown up so quickly.” Martha comments, kissing his forehead.

“Be careful, there’s a storm on the way, and the key to the cellar is on the hanger in the kitchen. Just in case.” Jonathan speaks with a worried tone, patting down Clark’s hair.

“I know, I know.” Clark hugs his parents, and watches them leave, the truck kicking up a trail of dirt behind it.

 

* * *

 

“God, this wind is crazy!” Chloe laughs as she and Lana run down the stairs, their hair fluttering wildly in the wind.

Lana smiles brightly as she and Chloe rush to the sidewalk, Whitney and Clark waiting for them, with a camera.

“Picture! Come on!” Clark cheers, shoving Chloe and Lana together, as they fix their hair, and pose lovingly. The camera shutter goes off quickly, the polaroid printing a bright picture despite the wind.

“And now, with Whitney, cause we’ve gotta get there early!” Clark jumps up and down, laughing when they make silly expressions into the camera.

“Hugs! Hugs! Hugs,” Chloe chants, squeezing all of them together, like a huddle of penguins.

“Take care of each other, yeah?” Whitney looks to Lana and Chloe, as they embrace each other against the wind.

“We will,” Lana answers, snuggling into Chloe’s shoulder.

“We’ll miss you.” Chloe pipes up, as Clark wraps an arm around Whitney’s shoulder.

“I’ll miss you guys too.” Whitney looks over Smallville with a fond gaze, before he waves them goodbye, “Have fun at the dance. And don’t drink the punch unless you want to get drunk.”

“I’ll be sure to drink a whole gallon.” Chloe jokes as they load into Whitney’s truck.

“And I’ll make sure she doesn’t die from alcohol poisoning.” Lana smiles, waving them goodbye as they drive down the street and watch them get smaller from the rear view mirror.

 

* * *

 

Clark pulls into the bus stop, and parks the truck, getting off with Whitney, frowning when the winds begin to pick up.

“Do you have everything?” Clark looks at the duffel bag hanging off of Whitney’s shoulder.

“You’re only allowed one bag.” Whitney shrugs, before pulling Clark into a hug, “Thanks for seeing me off. I know you didn’t have to-”

“It’s not like I’m going to the dance, Whitney.” Clark squeezes him before letting go.

“Still, I appreciate it. I wanted to ask, if you could do something for me?”

“I can.” Clark waits, as Whitney hesitates, “I want you to look after my mom. I know she’s strong, but I’m not leaving at the best time. I don’t want her to feel alone, and she loves having you over for dinner.”

“Don’t even worry about it.” Clark tears up, hugging Whitney again, “By the time you come back, our moms will be best friends, and she’ll be so tired of my face, I swear.”

Whitney wipes his tears away, nodding to Clark, and pulling away turning to board the bus. Clark watches the bus pull away, before starting the truck and ripping it down the roadways, wary of the funnel clouds in the distance.

 

* * *

 

The music blares in the background, as Chloe and Lana laugh, spinning each other in circles to the beat of the song.

Martha and Jonathan watch attentively, patrolling the punch every so often, hand in hand, smiling and joking.

“I want to be like them,” Lana commented wistfully, as Chloe spun, her dress flowing behind her.

“Like who?” Chloe asked, raising her voice to be heard over the loud music.

“Like Clark’s parents. They’re so sweet, don’t you think? I want to be that age and still feel as in love as I am right now.”

“We will be,” Chloe promises, laughing when they both get hit with vertigo from spinning.

They fall into chairs in an empty corner of the gymnasium, holding each other and taking a calming breath.

“So, how did it feel going stag?” Chloe probed, tempted to rub her feet.

“Well, I didn’t really go stag, did I? I had you after all.” Lana wrapped an arm around Chloe’s waist, trying to straighten her hair out, “I’m glad we came together, Chloe. Even if we had to go stag.”

“Me too,” Chloe beamed, “I’ll miss Smallville, but I swear, I’ll make sure you’re the coolest country gal to come to Metropolis.”

“Are you sure about that? I’m not sure even a crash course in city culture will take the Smallville out of me.” Lana sighed, taking a deep breath of perfume.

“It will. As cool as I am, even I did not come out of the womb this fly, this style had to be learned, and you are going to be educated!”

Lana smiles, and hidden by the chairs, and copious amounts of white balloons, their lips meet for a sparkling kiss.

"Do you remember our first dance?" Martha hums along to the song, holding Jonathan’s hand tightly.

"How could I forget?" Jonathan asks, pulling Martha to the dance floor and holding her close as they begin to sway to the music.

"You're just as beautiful now as you were then." Jonathan says sappily, and Martha laughs, leaning her head on his shoulder, the disco ball shining above them.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, I came to get my books.” Clark opens the doors to Lex’s office, as he raises his head away from his paperwork.

“Good. I was starting to think you’d forgotten about them. Usually you read them the day of.” Lex jokes, closing the folder he’d been reading through.

“Shouldn’t you be at the dance?” Lex asks, looking to his wristwatch, and then back to Clark.

“Nope. I have decided that dances are too lame, and for people who actually have dates.” Clark shrugs, grabbing a book from his pile.

“You could’ve gone stag.” Lex remarks, still sitting at his chair, watching Clark flip through the pages of his book.

“Would’nt’ve been as fun,” Clark peers over his book at Lex, “No date, and busy friends who are each other’s date is a no go. How’s work going?”

“It’s going. We’re pressuring for an employee buyout, for the plant. And an old friend of my mothers’, Pamela...left me her stock. I’ve used it to buy the Savings and Loan. It’s going to feel good when my father figures that one out, even if he does come in here huffing and puffing.”

Lex shakes his head, “But enough talk about business.” He gripes, and walks over to his stereo, shuffling through his CD’s before inserting one.

Clark looks up from his book, looking at Lex’s offered hand, “Come on. I doubt you’ll get a chance to dance otherwise.”

Flushing, Clark gingerly grabs his hand, threading their fingers together as [ _I’ll be_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qrTmNDZ-nc) begins.

Under the stained glass, they gazed into each other’s eyes. As they slow danced to the music, Clark rested his head on Lex’s shoulder - a tornado touched down in the distance.

 

* * *

 

“Stop. Stop the music, please. Can I have everyone's attention please?” The music cuts abruptly, the speakers sparking with static. “The National Weather Service has just issued a tornado warning. Apparently three funnels have been spotted heading toward Smallville.”

Martha and Jonathan exchange a worried look, as murmurs ran through the crowd. Chloe and Lana hold each other, as their teacher continues to speak.

“Please, everyone stay calm. The twisters are going to set down south of here, but for your own safety, no one will be allowed to leave the gym.” The teacher sighs as a swarm of students approach him the moment he walks off the stage.

Martha and Jonathan hold hands tightly, as Lana and Chloe approach them, “Clark went to go drop off, Whitney. It’s south of here, what if-”

Martha calmly pats her shoulders, “I’m sure he’s home by now, Lana. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll give him a call,” Chloe chips in, walking over to her bag and grabbing her phone before returning. Antsy, they wait as Chloe’s phone rings, before the call goes to the family voicemail.

“Call Lex instead,” Jonathan says, “He might still be over there.”

“Right,” Chloe dials Lex’s number, ardently waiting for Lex to pick up.

It goes to voicemail. All twenty two calls do.

 

* * *

 

Lighting flashes colored through the stained windows, and Lionel steps through the doors, flung open in his anger.

“You're using your mother's stock to fund the buyout. You’ve even bought the Savings and Loan. I should’ve known your secret source.” Lionel spits, at Lex rolling his eyes, as Clark ducks into the stairway, the stereo cutting off.

“Bold, very bold. But it won’t work.” Lionel sneers coldly, shaking his head like a lion too proud to see it’s faults.

“Did you have to brave the weather to tell me that?” Lex looks up the ceiling as if he could offer a sincere prayer to God to make his father go away.

Lionel crosses his arms, “You may get the plant, Lex, but you’ll forfeit your future! You should be working for me in Metropolis, not holding fantasies of a future that will fail you.”

“I’ll be forging a new destiny free from you!” Lex yells at his father, “Away from the shadow you raised me in, towards something better.”

“Better?” Lionel mocked, “There is no better, not for _you._ You're not my enemy, Lex. You're my son. You don’t want to be _my_ enemy, son.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a distinction in your eyes.” Lex bit back, distinctly aware of Clark hiding in the stairwell.

“When Alexander the Great was dying, his generals asked who he would leave his empire to. If he would appoint a successor, it would keep the legacy intact...prevent generations of bloodshed! His answer was simple - I leave it to the strongest. You’re my only son, Lex. When it is my time, my empire will be yours. You’ve always lacked patience, but I never chided you for it. I wish I had now, you wouldn’t be _entertaining_ fantasies of leaving.”

Lex stands nose to nose with his father, trying to see the father that he always wanted, but only remembering the monster that raised him.

“I’ve had all the patience I needed, all the patience in the world, waiting to see what my mother saw in you.”

Lex swallowed thickly, forcing himself to speak through his emotions, “Whatever she saw in you fit enough to love, - I never found it. You want to leash me at your side, but I’m a Luthor, and if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s to cry havoc.”

Lionel reaches out grabbing Lex’s face with a firm grasp. ”I'll bury you and everyone in Smallville who takes your side! Including that incessant farm boy you’re so obsessed with! Don’t think I don’t know-”

Lex reaches up grabbing his father’s hands and throwing them off of his face, snarling in anger.

“Don’t bring the Kents’ into this!-”

The windows vibrate in warning, before shattering, as a burst of wind throws them both to the floor. Sliding, Lex groans as bookshelf lands on him, the books falling to his sides. A large column falls over Lionel, and the glass shards cut into his face, as Lex throws the bookshelf off of himself, wincing at his ribs.

The roof support beams collapse, crashing down into the office, its’ jagged edge hovering right over Lionel’s prone form. Lex stops breathing, the stairwell where Clark had hidden crushed to splintered wood by the roof.

Lex struggles to his feet, clutching his head as his father calls out to him.

“Lex! Help me, Lex! Lex!” Lionel cries out, struggling against the column.

The wind rips through the room, and Lex hobbles over to the pile of wood, blood dripping down his face, screaming out Clark’s name.

The roof continues to fall, as Lionel’s cries grow feeble over the roar of the wind.

Lex falls forwards to his knees, at the base of the stairwell.

“Clark!” Lex cries out, digging through the wood, glass cutting into his hands and splinters piercing his skin.

“Clark,” Lex screams his throat raw, denying the sinking feeling of fear, terror choking his cries. Clark could survive a fall, he could survive a gunshot to the head, but something in himself told him, even he couldn’t survive an entire roof crashing onto his head.

"Lex," Lionel says, not all there, raising a hand to his blurry visage, "Lex, don't leave me here."

Shaking his head, Lex pushes the column off of his father, leaving him to lie there as he continues screaming louder for Clark, slowly heaving to push away a large piece of wood.

Clutching at his head in agony, Lex stops digging, staring as something emerges from the pile of wood, covered in dust. Slowly, Clark stands and wades through the wood, with ripped flannel and a dusty face.

"How the hell did you survive that?" Lex asks, unnaturally pale, and drawn, swaying on his feet. “You should be dead,” He sobs, “You should be _dead_.”

His bloodied hands clutch at Clark’s face, marring his perfect skin with red, and all he knows is relief.

"I’m okay. I’m okay.” Clark cups Lex’s bleeding face gently, his face beginning to swell,“I guess I have to tell you the truth now,” Clark smiles at him, the blue of his eyes brighter than ever before.

“I’m an alien, Lex.”

 


	19. New Installment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new installment, _Echoes of Devotion_ is now up! It is the direct sequel to Time After Time, and I hope everyone enjoys it.

Hey, all.

This is just a little notice to tell all my subscribers that the second installment in the Time After Time series, _Echoes of Devotion_ is finally up!

So, if you like what I've done with Time After Time, the journey continues in E.O.D!

Thanks for all your support and commentary!

\- J.K.A


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